Harry of the Six Paths
by Laputian-Blackwriter
Summary: Harry had only imagined he could have powers like from the Naruto manga. But when he unleashes the Rinnegan during a traumatic event, it opens a world he never thought existed, for him to change as he saw fit. "We are Pain... we are God!"
1. Chapter 1

It had not been a pleasant night, even for him. When he woke up, his shoulder was sore and it hurt every time he even budged it, and his bony arm looked all swollen and purple from where it had been gripped too tightly.

However today was Saturday, and he was not required to do anything in the morning since his Aunt had a book club and even better his Uncle and cousin were watching a football game. He did not need to cook breakfast, and only needed to make something for himself, since they would undoubtedly eat out.

Waking up, his cupboard was thankfully unlocked and looking in the fridge, he was relieved to find that his Aunt had once again overstocked, meaning they were unlikely to notice if he cooked a full sausage or a strip of bacon.

Even as he cooked the food his stomach was growling in anticipation, and as he put them on a dish and consumed them as slowly as he could, in order to savour it as much as possible he sighed, partly to satisfying his stomach, but mostly in sadness.

Many times he had been forced to watch how his cousin had consumed and eaten all that he wanted while he poked his measly scraps. He had watched as other children had more than enough to eat for lunch at school, and had hungered and had imagined that food was his.

But he dared not question his fortune, and did not desire to get more as he finished his meal for fear of reprisal – instead, he washed his plate and headed out, shivering slightly at the cold.

Dressed in thin, torn hand-me-downs he wasn't exactly prepared for a typical grey day in Surrey but he had nothing else, and he headed down the road, towards the library.

It was his only refuge from his relatives and the other children who made fun of him and hunted him. The old librarian was kind to him, and helped him look for what he needed, and since it was not frequented by the other children he spent as much of his time as he could in there, simply reading and reading, taking himself to other places, wishing he could go far away from here, reading on every topic imaginable, from Greek philosophy to World history.

As soon as he got there he immediately went to the non-fiction section and picked out the latest book he had been reading, _Cultures of Asia._

He didn't know why, but there was something about Asia that appealed to him in its exoticness, its strange and unfamiliar lands. Perhaps it was because it seemed so far away, so distant, that he could be spirited away and never come back.

"Sasha! Come on, where are you?"  
His attention was diverted as he heard the quiet pitter-patter of feet following the brassy, young female voice. Harry looked down in surprise as a child, of three or four, wrapped around his torso and hid behind him.

"Sasha! Come on! We don't have time for this game!"

The child was a girl, and as Harry gently prised her arms off him she looked up at him, with pleading eyes.

He smiled. "Is that your sister?"

The girl nodded.

"Why are you running from her?"

"She's scary," the child whined.

Harry nearly chuckled at that. He leaned down and patted her on the head. "I wish I had a sister. You should be happy. She seems scary because she loves you very much."

The child wrinkled her brow. "Don't you have a sister?"

"No, I don't." He smiled sadly. _Or a mother. Or a father. _Harry took her by the hand, leading her out of the aisle. "Excuse me? Your little sister is here."

A teenaged girl who looked to be fifteen turned around, giving a sigh of relief as she came down. "Oh thank God! Sasha, where have you been?" She picked the little girl up with little effort.

The girl blew a raspberry. "Emma is a meanie!"

She sighed, and then gave a small smile. "Sorry I'm being such a big meanie today. Let's get some ice-cream later okay?" She turned to regard him. "Thanks a lot. What's your name pipsqueak?"

"Er… Harry. Harry Potter."

Emma raised an eyebrow as she regarded the boy who looked more like a street orphan than the local delinquent she had heard about. From the way he averted his eyes to his skeletal frame, and ragged, scrappy hand-me-downs. He was _nothing_ like what her parents made him out to be, but then again, it's not like they had always seen eye-to-eye.

Meanwhile Harry was wondering if this Emma was the same Emma his Aunt had ranted on about one night at dinner, calling her a 'rebel' and 'completely out of control'. She certainly didn't dress like what he thought a rebel would look like, being neat and casual in a t-shirt and jeans.

"Well thanks for helping find my sister Harry." Emma said with an unfalteringly kind smile. "Did you come here by yourself? Where are your mum and dad?"

Harry flushed. "I live with my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon." The way he changed his tone when speaking their names did not go unnoticed by the teenager.

Emma looked sheepish. "Sorry… I forgot. Hey, would you like to get some ice-cream with us?"

Harry looked up with wide eyes. "I-Ice-cream? Really?"

Emma laughed at his reaction. "Of course! It's the least I could do." _And it's a better opportunity to find out why every parent in Privet Drive tells their kids to stay away from him._

-P-

Harry was licking a chocolate ice-cream cone, savouring it as slowly as he could. Sasha had already wolfed down her vanilla dip with sprinkles and was currently on the kid's playground, playing on the slides, leaving the two of them sitting beside each other.

To say Emma was shocked would be an understatement. Harry was the very opposite of what she had heard – he was kind, considerate and very polite, especially for his age. Even as they spoke Emma got the impression he was a lot more mature than he looked, and a lot more intelligent as well. He was very shy, and it took a bit of gently prodding to open him up to talk, but it had been worth it as he was surprisingly very conversable.

"E-Excuse me?" Harry spoke up hesitantly. "Do you mind if I ask you something? Except it mind seem rude…"

"Not at all," Emma responded pleasantly. "Go ahead, as long as it's G-rated," she joked, though at his blank expression nearly smacked herself in the head. _Six year old kid. Right._

"It's just… my Aunt always used to call you a 'no-good delinquent'," Harry stated up boldly. "Why did she say that?"

Emma laughed. "Well, you are curious aren't you? And very brave to ask me. Technically it's true. A little while ago I did go completely off the rails and ran away from my parents. Did some things I'm not proud of, made a lot of mistakes."

"What kind of things? Really bad things?"

She smiled at his innocence. "I hope that when you're my age you'll see them as bad things. But yes. Even now I'm not living with my parents, I live with my uncle down another block, though he lets me do my own thing most of the time. We still don't see eye-to-eye but we have dinner occasionally and they let me spend time with Sasha, so it's fine. I'm independent and away from them, and I'm saving money to hopefully attend college several years from now."

"I wish I could be like you," Harry admitted. "Free, I mean. I wish I could be far away from this place and never have to come back."

If Emma was surprised by this frank declaration she didn't show it. "I'm sure that one day you will." She smiled, and stood up. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to leave. It was nice to meet you Harry, and good luck, for the future I mean."

"Goodbye, Emma. And thank you." Harry said earnestly as she walked to the playground to collect Sasha, and left.

Harry took a moment to finish the rest of his ice-cream, before standing up also, ready to head back home. He was about to toss the napkin into the metal bin when the half-torn cover of a book caught his eye.

_No way! Can it be? _Harry's eyes widened as he quickly used the napkin to fish it out. _It is…_

It was the latest Naruto manga. It had its cover torn off, it looked like someone had spilled something all over it, and it was slightly dirty, but it was still the latest Naruto manga!

Since Harry had been recently kicked out of the local comic book shops because not only did he spend all day reading, annoying the owners but a lot of the children spent their time there as well, he had not been able to catch up on the latest story. And here it was, in all its dirty, soggy glory!

Using the napkin to wipe away some of the dirt and mess, he gently opened it, and began to read.

Harry would not budge from there for another hour as he read through it, completely engrossed and transfixed in the story.

He was shocked at his good fortune but did not want to question it. After all, from what he understood Naruto was nowhere near as popular as what the other kids liked and very few actually read it. Harry had been able to read through it, partially for this reason since many of the kids enthused over other comics but also because it was a lot more complex and well-thought out than the others.

Soon enough, Harry had finished, closing the manga and throwing it back in the bin again, fearing what his Aunt would do if she saw it.

He had been moved by Nagato's story, but also awed at his strange and terrible power – to control six bodies at once as if they were his own. As Pain, Nagato had single-handedly bested Jiraiya and completely decimated the village, a feat which not even Orochimaru had accomplished in the original series with an army behind him.

And the power of his Rinnegan… Harry looked down at his hands and pretended to do a few seals, wishing he could wield that power. From the conversations he had gathered from the older few who read Naruto, they all enthused about the Sharingan – however he had heard not an ounce of praise for the Rinnegan, despite it easily being the most powerful of the three great doujutsu. There seemed to be nothing it couldn't do – read minds by ripping out souls, manipulate gravity, master all the elements, bring back the dead – Harry also felt a strong kinship with Nagato, as he wasn't a stranger to pain either. It had characterised most of his life, and unlike the protagonist, he wasn't blockheaded enough to go through it all bearing a smile.

Harry knew very well there was something wrong with the way he was treated, knew it every time he saw a family take a walk in the park or watch a little girl like Sasha with their caregiver. But he could do nothing about it, only bear it and imagine himself far away whenever he opened a Naruto manga.

Sighing, Harry looked up at the sky, which had cleared up, kicking his legs out before standing up. It was time to go. He was already late as it was, but he didn't care – today had been amazing, and for once in his life, he felt like a normal child.

Deciding to take the longer way back home to hopefully procrastinate his Aunt's wrath, Harry simple enjoyed the feeling of sweet freedom and independence, short as it was.

That is, until he heard a scream.

Harry froze, looking around wildly, before he heard the scream again, followed by the wailing of a child. The strange thing was, it sounded familiar –

At that moment of realisation, Harry knew he had two choices. He could run away, and while he would be safe and sound, he would hate his own guts forever. However, at the same time, if he knew he went to confront them he would most likely get his ass kicked, or worse. There was no way he would reach another adult in time.

Harry gritted his teeth angrily. What kind of a choice was that? With that, he ran off in the direction of the sound, heading down an alleyway and across the street into another alley.

The teenager from before, Emma, was being held at knife-point, while the little girl Sasha was on the ground across from them, crying as she nursed a cut.

"I wish it hadn't come to this, and I'm real sorry for cutting the little girl," the boy hissed angrily, gripping the weapon tightly. "But you left me no choice. After you left, do you know the amount of trouble you caused?"  
"No way in hell am I going back there!" Emma growled, ignoring the blade digging into her neck. "I'm turning over a new leaf, and I actually have a future this time! None of you can understand!"

"Oh, no, I understood exactly… you're no different from before. Typical selfish Emma, always thinking of herself over other people," he mocked. "How many hearts have you broken, how much trouble have you caused?"

"And you're still just a rich, stuck-up pretty boy!" Emma snapped back acidly. "You say I'm selfish but you're the one who's selfish! And blind! Look at you! You're so in deep you're threatening me with a knife like some common thug!"

"SHUT UP! If you hadn't left I would never be doing this in the first place. It's your fault, it's _always _your fault…"

Harry had enough, as he stepped into view, wondering what on Earth he had gotten himself into. "Stop!" He demanded in as strong a tone as he could muster.

"Harry!" Emma turned fearfully. "Run! Grab Sasha and get away from here!"

"Get lost, kid!" The teenage boy snapped. "This isn't your business!" Holding the knife against Emma's neck, with his other hand he pulled out a small revolver, aiming it at Harry threateningly. "Do you have a death wish? I told you to get lost!"  
"Are you barmy? Threatening a child of all things!"  
"Shut it you bitch! Come on kid, just turn around and keep moving!"

But Harry could not, _would_ not. Whether from bravado, idiocy or pure stubbornness there was no way he could back off. Even if he was going to die, at least he would die here protecting someone than out of starvation with the Dursleys.

With that oddly comforting thought in mind, he took a deep breath, and began walking forward.

"NO!" Emma screamed. "Run, Harry! Get out of here!"

"Get lost kid! Scram!"

However, Harry kept moving, and picked up the pace until he broke into a run.

BOOM!  
Harry gasped in shock as the bullet ripped across his side, sending him staggering to the ground, slamming hard on the concrete.

"Harry!" Emma cried in pure anguish. "How could you? You're no better than a lowlife now!"

"Shut up! You know nothing of my pain! _Nothing_!"

Harry was lying on the ground, drifting in and out of consciousness as he heard those words, and it sparked something in him, as he remembered words he had read not so long ago, from a character he had so admired.

Something warm blossomed inside of him, something bright, and as his vision slowly faded to black, he reached for the warm, clinging to it, wishing he had the power to solve this, wishing he had the strength.

And something happened. The tremendous power inside him, which had fought to keep him alive all these years, responded as it rose into an inferno – the power, which catered to its body's needs, now did so, latching on to the dark mass clinging to Harry's scar, which was absorbed and became a part of his power. The magic surged forward, creating new pathways, before pushing into his eyes, rewriting, rewiring, changing them to become better, stronger, and different than anything else before. A secret ability, locked away in his bloodline all this time, was now unleashed.

Harry stood up, to the shock of the teenagers. His wound had miraculously healed, and his chunky, broken glasses were tossed aside as he opened his eyes – to reveal a set of glowing, swirling purple eyes.

The power of the Rinnegan was his as he had wished.

His mouth opened, and words came out, as if he were not in control. "Pain? You know nothing of pain." Harry's eyes narrowed, glowing with ethereal power.

The boy's hand shook as he raised his weapon again. "W-What are you?"

Harry smirked. "We are _Pain._ We are _god_!"

BOOM! The revolver fired again, but the bullet never hit – instead, a powerful pulse of invisible force deflected it so it mere scraped his arm, while sending them staggering backward.

Harry charged forward, his face cold and emotionless, leaping onto the teenager and wrenching the weapons out of his grip. He slapped his hand on the boy's head and the teenager screamed as he felt his mind, memories and very life force seeping out of him slowly.

In reality, his very soul was being sucked out.

The teenager gasped as Harry ripped out a white, glowing spectral figure which dissipated, before slumping to the ground, dead.

Harry however, felt knowledge and memories flash before his eyes – information simply flew through his head, and it was too much for him – clutching his head in agony, he slumped over the corpse, slipping into unconsciousness.

-P-

"I'm telling you, Rod, it was nothing like I had seen before! Harry just…"

"And I'm telling you Emma, you need to get to a hospital. You've just been in a situation where you saw a child shot and was held at knife-point. You're most likely suffering from post-traumatic stress, and in some cases the stress can cause victims to distort or suppress memory."

"I'm NOT suffering from post-traumatic stress! I'm telling you what I saw! And if you really thought I needed to get to a hospital why aren't you worried about Harry? He's been shot for God's sake!"

"I'm a trained medic, I can easily handle it, and his wounds aren't severe…"

Harry had been awake for several minutes, but continued to pretend to be asleep, taking the time to recollect himself and wonder where he was.

Slowly, memories were coming back to him. He remembered the confrontation in the alleyway, remembered being shot, remembered moving as if not under his own power. It seemed to be like a distant dream.

As he slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he realised was that he wasn't wearing his glasses – scratch that, he didn't need his glasses. Everything was super sharp and crystal clear, clearer than when he had ever worn his glasses. And everything seemed… wider as well, like someone had taken the edges of his vision and stretched them out like a sheet of rubber.

"Well, it looks like our young friend is awake."  
Harry turned to take in a man nearing middle-age, with short-cropped hair and a strong, chiselled face. His features were hard, but surprisingly warm as he gave him a smile. "How you doing son? My name's Rodney, but you can call me Rod. You already know Emma."  
"His eyes Rod!" Emma hissed in shock. "Look at his eyes!"

"M-My eyes?" Harry remembered what had happened, and quickly shot up, looking around wildly for a mirror. Rod kindly handed him a handheld mirror.

Harry took a deep breath as he took it, and raised it up, to reflect glowing, swirling purple eyes. The eyes of the… "Rinnegan," he breathed in awe.

Rod however looked thoughtful as he regarded Harry's faded lightning bolt scar, which had become hardly a mark by now. "Emma, where'd you say you met him?"

"By the local Surrey library," Emma answered. "Treated him to an ice-cream."

"Is that so? Who do you live with, Harry?"

"My Aunt and Uncle," the boy answered. With his new eyes it was impossible to detect even an ounce of emotion in them – however the subtle undertone of bitterness couldn't be missed.

"Hmm. I see."

"Do you want to tell me what's going on, Rod?" Emma demanded. "You're acting all weird. What are you hiding?"

Rod sighed "If I told you Emma – I don't think you'd believe me."

"Is it as unbelievable as a child getting up from being shot with new crazy eyes, deflecting a bullet or sucking someone's soul out?" She said sarcastically. "Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it."

"That's the problem, Emma – I don't think you really understand, or understand the implications of what has happened." Rod stood up. "We'll settle this later. Anyway, Harry, are you hungry?"

"Yes, starving," Harry replied, feeling his stomach rumble in complaint.

"You've been out all afternoon. It's dinner time."

His eyes widened. "Dinner time! Oh no! I need to get back and cook dinner!" But Rod held him down with a strong hand.

"Hold on a minute. One thing, you're too young to be cooking dinner for anyone. I can make you a snack before we get you back to your relatives."

Harry shook his head. "It's too late; I might as well stay a few more minutes. Can you please tell me what you're going to tell Emma?"

"Too late for what?" Emma asked with a frown.

Rod sighed. "Never mind that. Harry… you've never been told about the… the you-know-what?"

"You-know-what? What you-know-what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"I mean… what you _are_," Rod stated with strong emphasis.

"…an orphan?"

Rod looked at him in astonishment. "Then I guess you really don't know!"

"Please stop it with all the cloak and dagger!" Emma complained. "What's so different about Harry? Is it some genetic mutation? Was he a part of a Government project? Is this some sorta cover-up?"

"Nothing so simple I'm afraid." Rod sighed once more, this time in resignation. "But before I can say anything, nothing spoken of here leaves this room. Got it?"

"Got it," Emma answered without hesitation. "So it is a cover-up!"

Rod looked at her in annoyance. "Why do you call everything I do a cover-up?"

"You were part of some black-ops group weren't you?"

"_Formerly_. But never mind that. Harry, I'm shocked that you were never told, considering how well-known you are."

"Well-known? What do you mean?"

"You're famous."  
Suddenly an incident came to the forefront of Harry's mind, where a strangely-dressed gentleman bowed to him. His Aunt Petunia had seen it and he didn't have any dinner that night. "For… for what?"

"Well, simply put: you're part of a larger community of people who can access an energy source called magic. These people are called witches and wizards… and you, Harry, are one of them."

Emma looked at him in shock. "You must be joking."

"I am not." He countered. "See how I said you wouldn't believe me? But it's the truth. The reason you're famous, Harry, is the reason you have that scar, and the reason you're an orphan."  
Harry's swirling purple eyes glowed dimly. "Please tell me."

Rod closed his eyes wearily. "Many years ago, there was a dark wizard, who began rallying people to his cause. He so terrified the wizards and witches that even today they refuse to say his name – _Voldemort_."

Harry could feel his eyes pulse slightly at the name. "So what happened?"

Rod snorted. "Voldemort was a terrorist. He used hit-and-run guerrilla tactics, attacking and going wherever he pleased, and the whole wizard world was in panic. Except when he came to your parents' house, and killed your parents, before turning his wand – that's the way wizards use magic – on you, as a baby. But despite this – somehow, nobody knows the reason why, he couldn't kill you, and his powers were broken when he tried, leaving that lightning bolt scar. So that's why you're famous. You're called the boy-who-lived." Rod chuckled. "A one in a million freak accident, I'd say."

"Wait… how do you know all of this? Don't tell me you're a wizard as well Uncle!" Emma stated incredulously.

"Hell no! I'm what they call a squib, born in a wizard family but without the capability to do magic. We're treated as outcasts, but good riddance! I never wanted to do magic in the first place."

"So… the reason I have these eyes…"

"Undeniably magic, and that's coming from someone who only knows the basics. But I've never heard of anything like this before. You intentionally deflected a bullet, that's not normal accidental magic, and ripped out someone's soul… well, some would call that dark, but you look like a good kid to me."

"I-I really don't know what happened," Harry admitted. "I just really wished I had the power to fight off that boy hurting Emma, and these activated."  
"Really? Hmm… whatever's happened, I think something's different about those flashy new eyes," Rod grinned. "I mean different in a good way. I say keep them and learn how to use them because I have a feeling it's gonna shake things up… not just for the wizards, but for the whole world as well."

"Wait? What about my ex? The guy who got his soul ripped out?" Emma questioned. "You're being awfully calm about all this."  
"I know. Don't worry, whatever happens, it'll end up being a cold case. However – I think you need to move soon. You got all your stuff back from him, right?"

"Well… not quite. I've still left a few clothes and some boxes there."

"Enough to incriminate you?"

"Maybe. It's too late now, I don't know the codes to his apartment."

"I do," Harry stated, making the pair of them turn to him in surprise. "I… I know the codes to his apartment. And where his parent's house is, as well as the key. And his account number. A-And… a lot of stuff. It's all a mess in my head, though."

"That seems pretty useful." Rod commented.

"Useful? For ripping someone's soul out? You really are mad Uncle!"

Harry however was in awe. _It really is the power of the Rinnegan… _

"Okay, you two can go to your ex's apartment to pick up your stuff. Be quick about it though, and be sure not to leave a mess."  
"I know, don't worry, I'm not exactly an angel as well remember?"

"Of course Emma. And… Harry…"

The boy turned to look at him.

"I know some of the shock may not have gotten to you yet but… you just killed a guy. I didn't mean to be so obtuse about it, but I may have been unintentionally. How are you doing? Alright?"  
"Yeah." Harry was feeling perfectly fine, better than fine in fact with the power of the Rinnegan. "I mean… he was about to hurt Emma. And I was trying to protect her, and I did. Because of that, it's fine… right?"

Rod however had different thoughts. _He seems so indifferent to the fact he just killed someone. Just what kind of things have his relatives been teaching him? _"… Right. Okay, see you kids later."

-P-

At Emma's insistence, the pair completely cleaned out her ex's house, as well as his personal savings, which were considerable. Because of his gang connections, nobody would assume it was anything more than a gang-ordered hit, and the case would most likely be closed. It had rained that night, which would wash away any incriminating evidence at the scene.

Emma took the death of her ex-boyfriend surprisingly well, too well in fact. As a consequence, she was considerably nicer to Harry and doted on him, even promising to buy him plenty of new things with her newfound wealth.

Rod kindly offered for Harry to stay over that night, which he was glad for, as he was not looking forward to seeing the Dursleys again. How exactly was he going to explain everything to them?

_A better question_, Harry mused in the morning as he sat in Rod's car whilst parked outside Privet Drive, _would be how not to kill them_. True, he hated his relatives, but that didn't mean he wanted them dead or anything.

Rod however was occasionally glancing at the child in concern. _His whole demeanour is too mature for his age. No post-trauma to the knowledge of causing someone's death. Maybe those eyes affected more than his magic. Maybe they affected his mind... or was he already like this? _He had seen his fair share of child soldiers and the psychological trauma and stress they underwent, however Harry had shown no signs of it at all. _I should keep watching him, see if anything happens regardless._ "Well Harry, are you ready to go home?"

"Let's get this over with," the boy sighed as he got out of the vehicle. Harry turned to face the house he loathed, ready to walk to the door, but promptly stopped.

Rod noticed his hesitation. "What's up?"

Harry took off the sunglasses Rod had given him to hide his Rinnegan in astonishment. _T-There's someone around the house. Some kind of bubble. It looks like... _Suddenly he recalled one of the Rinnegan's abilities. _That's right – it can see chakra – or magic. Then all this time..._

It looked like he needed a long talk to his relatives.

"Nothing." Harry strode through the bubble, slipping on his new sunglasses again, until he reached the door, but turned around and watched the bubble as Rod walked in as well – it flashed for a moment and glowed positively, accepting him inside. _Interesting. _

Rod however noticed nothing as he walked up beside him and knocked several times on the door.

"Coming!" Harry winced at the high-pitched, false sweet tone of his Aunt before the door opened. "May I help you?" She asked Rod sweetly, before she looked down and saw him before scowling. "What has the fre – I mean boy done this time?"

Rod plastered on a smile. "Good morning – it's Mrs Dursley, isn't it? I'm sorry that Harry was unable to return at all yesterday and that I forgot to contact you. I'm sure you were very worried."

"Oh, it's no worry, I'm sure it wasn't your fault," Mrs Dursley said, while shooting Harry dangerous glances. "That's fine, since the boy is obviously safe and sound, everything has worked out well!" With that, she quickly grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him in. "Now, if you don't mind..." She quickly grabbed the doorknob.

"Hold on a moment," Rod said, stepping in the way of the door. "There's also something else."

Mrs Dursley was taken aback. "Something... else, you say?"

"I think this conversation is best had in private," Rod stated. "And with your spouse, preferably. It's about Harry, so he can stay as well." The ex-military man watched as she attempted to cover a scowl by yelling for her husband to come down. There was annoyance, in her eyes, understandable, and even... fear? It looked like this talk would be very enlightening.

Once they had all sat down, Rod took a deep breath before cutting right through the pleasantries. "Right then. Why didn't you tell Harry he was a wizard?"

Silence. He could see Harry was trying to suppress his laughing from the look on their faces.

It was Petunia who spoke, her face pale. "You're... you're one of _them_ aren't you?" She demanded furiously, her voice cascading to a screech.

"I am not, but I know of them," Rod countered levelly. "Which is my problem – or rather Harry's problem."  
With that, the boy rose, tossing aside his sunglasses to reveal his swirling, hypnotic purple Rinnegan, making Petunia shriek and Vernon actually whimper when they saw it. "Tell me everything! Now! Or death will be a comfort!"

"We didn't want to take you in! You turned up on our doorstep one night with a letter saying my freak sister and her husband got themselves killed!" Petunia blurted out, shaking with fear.

"Why?" Harry growled angrily.

"It was the Headmaster of that school for freaks! That... that Dumbledore! He wanted us to take you in, but we wanted to have nothing to do with any of it!

"So the reason you beat me? Starved me? Forced me to live in a cupboard?"

Petunia wanted to stop talking, but those strange eyes... they somehow drew her in, and made her keep answering. "We wanted to get all that nonsense out of you! To hopefully make you a good British citizen!"  
By now Harry had also started shaking, not with fear, but with white-hot fury.

Rod had had enough by now, and had already stood up, pointing Harry to the door. "Right then. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to drive Harry out of here and go to my lawyer. Tonight or tomorrow I'm going to come back with a form stating you've released custody of Harry to me."

The pair didn't even need to think about it. "Done!" They said in unison.

-P-

However, when they returned to Rod's household, Harry felt no closure from their confession. And why should he? They kept his heritage from him, beat him, abused him, starved him whilst giving Dudley whatever he wanted, stunted his learning, spread malicious rumours… the list was practically endless.

His whole life before this had been nothing but pain, a pain that the Dursleys had caused. That was not to add the pain of loneliness, of never knowing his parents. Even though he now knew his parents died for a noble cause and not from a drunken accident – it still hurt. It was still pain.

Harry closed his eyes, before walking to a mirror, regarding his Rinnegan, observing it closely.

Maybe it was nothing more than a comic book, however it had always connected with him in some sense. Was true peace really a lie, as Pain had believed? Was the chain of hatred always meant to go on till the end of humanity? Would there always be another victim like him, waiting to happen?

He looked deep into his eyes in his reflection, as if hoping to find the answer within them. Harry could not be an idealist like Naruto, believing that people were ultimately good. People were bad and rotten inside. But maybe, these eyes could change the world, like they had in _Naruto_. Maybe they were the start of something new.

But Harry knew in order to build something new you needed to first destroy what was originally in its place, in order to make space. The old and the new couldn't co-exist.

The Rinnegan… he remembered reading in the manga that the bearer of it was destined to be either the world's destroyer, or saviour. Well maybe he could do both.

But first, he needed to train and become strong. And find out more about magic and the magical world.

And he also needed to go to Japan. He had a feeling it would be a good idea to pay the creator of _Naruto_, Kishimoto, a visit.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing. Keep them coming!

-P-

It had been several months since Rod had been granted full custody of Harry, and those few months had been vastly better than his entire time in Surrey, in every single aspect.

Since Emma had the intention of going to college in several years to get a teacher's degree, she decided to practise by teaching Harry instead. In addition to this, he augmented his learning with Rod's very big library of books.

The man was ex-military and had in his youth travelled all the world, and learnt many different martial arts as well. Because of this Harry had asked him at every turn to be taught taijutsu, hand-to-hand combat, but repeatedly Rod had refused, obviously reluctant to teach a child potentially deadly techniques.

That didn't deter Harry from his chosen career choice however. Instead, he focused his training on learning to harness his chakra and ninjutsu, as well as basic genjutsu. He had managed to convince his new guardian to lend him some money so he could order the entire series of _Naruto_ manga, as well as the additional supplementary databooks.

At first glance, watching Harry train it would look silly, as he would normally have one of the manga open, and reading through the descriptions of how the jutsu was performed, going through the hand seals. However, when he actually attempted it – that was a completely different matter.

With the aid of his Rinnegan, no technique was too difficult to master, and there was no limitation to what he could and couldn't do. He knew that as the bearer of the Rinnegan he could master all the elements, and this showed in the incredible speed he was progressing. Every one of the basic techniques he performed he got in the first few tries, as if he had been doing them for years. Even as he learnt them, he felt an instinctive familiarity, as if he had done them before. No wonder Nagato had been thought to be the sage's reincarnation...

But he knew that was merely the Rinnegan's ability, to skyrocket his learning and understanding of ninjutsu techniques exponentially. Still, it added to his suspicion of how his own Rinnegan activated, and why exactly he had it.

The first thing he started having difficulty with, naturally, was the creation of shadow clones. As a learning tool, the use of shadow clones was too valuable to pass up. The first time he produced a shadow clone, Harry was so exhausted to needed to take a break. It took him nearly a month before he could produce and use two to three shadow clones at a time while maintaining his own chakra capacity, but now he could produce five to six easily. He had a feeling he was blessed with above average chakra levels, though obviously not to the same extent as Naruto had been.

The things he couldn't learn straight out of the manga or even the databooks was taijutsu, naturally, and fuinjutsu. The manga simply didn't go into enough detail about how to create seals or what different seals meant, which was incredibly unfortunate since he could see the usefulness of the sealing arts.

Harry's learning however was a constant process – even at breakfast, lunch and dinner, the trio talked about the magical world – or rather, it was Rod who talked about it, explaining it in detail, while they listened. As none of them had a wand, they could not enter any of the different portals into the magical world, however since Rod had grown up in a wizard household he was well-versed in all parts of it. The more Harry heard about it, the more intrigued about it he was – Rod described it, with disdain, to be "permanently stuck in the medieval period", which he had to see for himself.

However, they were nearly halfway through the year, and Harry had successfully convinced Rod to take them overseas – namely, to Asia, but first, to Japan.

He needed to find answers. Rod had attributed his dojutsu's development to an extremely powerful magical spike, but he didn't buy it. _Maybe_ if it were a mere change in eye colour, but the fact was how accurate it resembled the Rinnegan in Naruto. He more than likely possessed all the powers of the Six Paths of Pain, and though several of the more... unique abilities escaped him, he knew that he had the potential to do them.

The fact that he could rip souls out of people's bodies, learning all that he wanted out of their minds, was suspicious enough, and an ability, according to Rod, no wizard, especially not a child, could possess.

So here Harry was now, sitting in an extremely cramped plane cabin. Rod was sitting next to him, Emma was several seats away and already asleep. He couldn't sleep however, and had no intention of doing so. These several months he had many of his wishes fulfilled, and now here was another one – he was far away from Surrey, and flying to Japan. How could he possibly fall asleep at a time like this?

The security guards at the airport had looked at him oddly when he had constantly worn his sunglasses through the whole check-in process. Harry had considered growing his hair out, like Nagato, to hide his eyes but since his hair was already messy it would make it like a completely unkempt mess. Instead, he resolved to improve his genjutsu and develop one of his own that could be maintained unconsciously to create an illusion over his eyes.

"Hey, Rod..." Harry said.

The man pulled down his headphones from the movie he was watching. "What's up, Harry?"

Harry glanced to the person beside them, who was thankfully sleeping peacefully. "How do you feel about everything that's happened? You know, being guardian of me, with my status and... talents."

Rod smiled. "It's fine. I was beginning to get bored with early retirement anyway."

"So you're... alright with all this? Even if some of my abilities might be... dark?" Harry questioned.

The man sighed, closing his eyes. "You know I used to be in the army. Well, I served as part of the SAS for several years on a reconnaissance and black ops squad. We did a lot of dirty work – some of the things I've seen and done even now I can't tell you about," he said with a wry grin, before his face turned wistful, eyes expressing the infamous 'thousand yard stare' of many experienced veterans. "But I've seen war, seen the worst humans can get – both for the other side... and ours." He sighed. "The point is, when you're fighting, you need to use whatever it takes to win. A rifle doesn't know what it's doing – only its holder does. A tool is a tool, and they should be used. I don't fear you for what you can do, and besides, I never cared much for that wizard superstition anyway," Rod finished with a grin.

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

"Not a problem, though don't expect me to teach you anything until you're older. Just remember: you wanna change the world right? Well, you're going to have to get your hands dirty to do so."

-P-

It had been an extremely long flight, and Harry eventually did have to take a long sleep on the plane, but after briefly stopping in the Hong Kong airport before taking another plane, here they were – in Tokyo.

"Well, it's been a while since I've been in Japan – this should be interesting," Rod said after they collected their things and had taken them into the airport lobby.

"This is awesome!" Emma said with a laugh. "I can't wait to put all my Japanese lessons into practise! And get some shopping done!"

Harry could only look at them and grin. He was truly blessed to have such older role models in his life. Clever, tough, completely apathetic to murder... though what did that make him?

"Taxi!" Rod waved down one that was parked by the road, walking to the vehicle. _"Downtown Tokyo, please,"_ he said in Japanese. "Hurry up you two!"

"Come on Emma!" Harry urged. His own suitcase was quite small, given what he owned, however the girl had a case nearly over half the size of her. "I thought you were excited!"

"Give me a moment!" the teenager scowled in annoyance. She gave a very unfeminine grunt as she dragged her suitcase towards the vehicle, giving a sigh of a relief when Rod took it, heaving it into the trunk of the taxi.

The trip into downtown Tokyo was something Harry didn't think he would ever forget. Having grown up in Surrey without seeing what was outside the suburbs, this whole trip, from going into London to Heathrow airport before finally seeing the sleek city of Tokyo for the first time was going to stay with him – even now, as they drove into central Tokyo, Harry had his face constantly glued to the window, eyes wide open, taking in all the sights before him – the city was so brimming with life and energy, so full of people, it was incredible to see. Though they were predominantly Japanese, there was a larger variety of people here than he had thought there would be, of many different races in fact.

"Well, Harry, where to first?" Rod asked.

One part of him screamed for Harry to simply stop the taxi and jump out to explore on his own. However he knew that wasn't a good idea – there were too many people, and despite his control over many different types of jutsu his taijutsu and physical attributes were simply average for a child his age. When Rod had flat-out refused to help him, Harry didn't know what to do other than eat as healthily as he could and start to do some exercise.

He pulled out the address he had scribbled down. A little bit of an Internet search had easily shown him Kishimoto's home address. Rod, seeing this, showed it to the driver, and off they headed, after a brief stop to drop their things off at their hotel with Emma who would get everything sorted and ready for the night.

According to the Internet, Kishimoto lived in an apartment building in central Tokyo. It had taken a lot of digging and a lot of strife, considering the man's fame and consequent privacy, however it wasn't impossible as they proved it to be.

Harry was deep in thought as the vehicle moved towards their destination. What would he ask the man? What would he say, anyway? It seemed entirely ridiculous that he would be telling the author of a fictional series it wasn't as fictional as he thought – but then again, this was the reason he wanted to see him.

"Hey Harry…" Rod piped up. "Not that I'm doubting you or anything, but why are we seeing him anyway?"  
"I'd like to… confirm something," Harry answered hesitantly. Despite it being the reasonable starting point, everything that happened to him, all the training he'd done – it all seemed like one big joke really, considering he had copied them from a Japanese _comic_ of all things.

It wasn't too far away from central Tokyo, and was very conveniently located making it an easy building to find – as Harry got out and looked up at it, the apartment building seemed very modest, not unlike any other of the apartment buildings in Tokyo, as many as there were. _Well… here I go._ "Hey Rod… do you mind if you wait here in the lobby for a bit?"  
"Sure thing," the man answered, sensing that this was something the boy needed to see for himself. Over the months he had realised that Harry was far more mature than a boy like him should have a need to be, and that he was fully capable of taking care of himself. It was horrible to think so, but Harry was not a child, having been denied his right of a childhood.

Harry took a deep breath, briefly adjusting his sunglasses before getting in the elevator, hitting the eighth floor. The old machine moved painfully slowly, drawing out the tension thickly as the boy began to get progressively nervous, wondering what he was going to say.

Finally, there was a relieving chime as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Harry walked out and down the hallway until he found the number for Kishimoto's address.

Hesitantly, he pressed the bell. _Ding dong._

A voice came up on the intercom. _"Yes?"_ a man's voice came in Japanese.

Harry gulped as he fumbled over his words, having received a crash course in basic Japanese. _"Kishimoto-san? Hello, my name is Harry. There's something I'd like to talk to you about."_

The door opened with a click, revealing a Japanese man with a smile on his face. It was Masashi Kishimoto… the creator of Naruto. "Hello Harry," the man said in strongly accented English. "I've been waiting for you."

"What? W-Waiting for me?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes. Please, come in. Would you like some tea?"

Harry shakily declined, stepping into the modest apartment.

"Have a seat," the man offered, as they sat down at the traditional Japanese table. "Now, would you like to take off your glasses and show me your eyes?"

Surprisingly, Harry felt no fear as he took them off, revealing his swirling purple eyes.

"_The Rinnegan!" _The man said in awe, slipping into Japanese accidentally as he stood up and bowed in reverence. "So it is true – it is the time for the return of Shinobi."

"Shinobi? So it's real? Shinobi did exist? Naruto isn't just a manga but it actually happened?" Harry blurted out excitedly.

Kishimoto smiled. "Naruto is – partially true, but yes, there was a time when Shinobi nations ruled the Earth. Asian civilization is much, much older than European civilization, you see, and I have spent my whole life researching the Shinobi nations – or the Elemental nations as they were called." The man's eyes darkened. "However, my research is not as… well-received, as I would have liked. So what better way for the past to live again than in the form of entertainment?"

"So the events of Naruto…"  
"Based on Shinobi mythology – we do not know whether they were true or not, but all legends must have some basis," Kishimoto answered. "Though I have taken liberties with some of them for entertainment purposes." His face brightened. "But the Rinnegan… for it to return again - you truly are an extraordinary child, Harry Potter."  
Once again Harry was thrown into shock. "You know my name? How? That means you must be…"  
Kishimoto pulled his wand out of his pocket. "Indeed I am. How else would I have gained access to the ancient scrolls? Many of them have eluded our grasp, and some were feared lost – however most of them are actually in the hands of old wizard families, collectors or magical governments. I have worked hard to restore as much as I can, in hope and in waiting for your return."

"My return?"

"Yes. Naruto had a dual purpose – for entertainment, obviously, but also for another – I strove to make it as accurate as possible because I hoped, one day, it would help to guide the new Shinobi, not just in how to use chakra, but that they might seek me out, so that I could see for myself." Kishimoto smiled. "You have already fulfilled my life's dream, Harry! Of all the _Kekkai Genkai_ to return – yours is special, more special than you realise." Kishimoto leaned back. "The Rinnegan is, as you know, the dojutsu of the _Rikudo Sennin_, the Sage of the Six Paths, who was the founder of Ninjutsu techniques. However his power was more than that, and from what I gather the belief that he was the 'saviour of the world', in the old scrolls, actually stemmed from religious belief – that he was God himself, in human form and bestowed upon us the power of chakra and also the power of _Kekkai Genkai._" Kishimoto paused. "You know of the story in Naruto of the origin of the feud of the Senju and Uchiha clans, correct?"  
Harry nodded. "Yeah – they were meant to be the Sage's sons. One inherited his body and will, and the other his power and eyes – or something like that, right?"

"Yes. But it turns out I made an error in translation. The closest translation to the ancient kanji than 'sons', would have been 'inheritors', or 'successors'. Nowhere in the texts I have translated have there been anything about the Sage having children. That Rinnegan of yours is more special than you know, Harry." Kishimoto smiled. "The Sage didn't just give us the knowledge of chakra. He also gave many of the original ninja clans their bloodlines."

Harry fell silent, realising just how important his Rinnegan was now. "But… how did he do that?"

"When the time comes… you will know, Harry. Those eyes of yours aren't known as the most powerful of the three great dojutsu for no reason. For example, have you been practicing the jutsu in Naruto?"  
Harry nodded.

"And you've been quick in learning them, haven't you? Even though you have no knowledge of how to call on your chakra?"

"But I thought chakra meant…"  
"Magic?" Kishimoto snorted. "Don't be insulting." He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, drawing a figure of the human body on it. "But you're closer than you think. According to ancient ninja lore, the body naturally generates two kinds of energy, or 'life forces'." He drew in the symbol for Yin and Yang. "_Yin _force, is what Chinese call _chi_ – the force of the spirit, in other words. _Yang _force, is physical force, and is what wizards draw upon forcibly when they use wands – in other words it is what they call magic. These two energies form in your body and circuit around it, but they are separate energies, designed to carry out separate functions. _Chakra _however is when you consciously mix those two energies together and externally manifest them through your _tenketsu_ points – by combining _Yin _and _Yang_ as it were. After that, you can do with it as you please – manipulate its shape, transform it into an element… I have strived to keep Naruto as accurate as possible in terms of chakra manipulation and types, however I disguised chakra's real nature to avoid wizard backlash."

Harry was once again in shock. Chakra was real! People could form chakra! "Then anybody can use chakra? Not just wizards?"

"Yes – however I'd recommend training wizards at first. Since they are naturally gifted with large reservoirs of _Yang_ energy it is easier for them to manifest chakra, and their resultant chakra levels will be stronger and higher. However you are correct – in theory anybody could learn it, but practically it is very difficult, especially the older you get. That is why ninjutsu training is best started earliest as possible, and only originally passed on in secret through clans until the later formation of Academies in latter periods. The older you get, the less mouldable the _Yin _and _Yang _energies are. The wildness of _Yang _energy when you are young results in accidental magic in children. Also, by starting from an earlier age, your body gets more adapted to drawing out chakra and will begin to develop chakra coils in order to draw upon it more quickly. It is the ultimate manifestation of the body's energy – magic pales in comparison to what it can do. Our bodies are built for moulding chakra, having a specialised circuit and organs for it but because this knowledge has gone people do not reach their full potential." Kishimoto closed his eyes. "That was the basis of the belief in the Rikudo Sennin's divinity – that having already given us the gift of chakra as god, he then sought to teach us to use it."

"What about Senjutsu?" Harry asked after a moment's pause. "Since it takes in the natural chakra…"

"Yes, though I doubt you will find any animal spirits to teach you it, much less give you a Summoning Contract, in this day and age." Kishimoto sighed. "When there is _Yang _energy, _Yin _is inevitably there also. Do you not see? Like the Yin and Yang symbol, the two are inseparable, ironic since they are both distinct as well. For Senjutsu you draw both energies in and allow your body to mix them together as nature chakra."

Harry leaned back, taking a minute to process all this new information.

Ever since he had seen the distinct energy of his own techniques he had a feeling magic was different to chakra, though now he finally had confirmation. "When you asked before if I had no knowledge of how to draw on my chakra… it's my Rinnegan isn't it? It allows me to naturally mould chakra as if I've practised with it for years."  
Kishimoto nodded, pleased at his deduction. "Very good! You're correct, however as a wizard you have a higher than normal output of _Yang_ energy. Wizards can learn how to mould chakra faster due to this. It makes it easier to sense your own _Yang_, and when you sense it, you can find your _Yin _energy as well. The hardest part is actually mixing the energies and moulding them into chakra."

"If what you're saying is true, then any strong wizard would know how to recognise and mix their energies into chakra," Harry said with a frown.

"Not quite. _Yin _energy is subtle and almost impossible to detect. Unless you know it is there it cannot be felt, though to my understanding monks and strong martial artists can draw out some of their _Yin_ - though its effects are limited." Kishimoto sighed. "And besides, wizards have become quite stagnant. It is the reason I live here, away from them – I highly doubt many can even sense their own _Yang._" The man stood up, walking into his room before returning with a thick tome. "Here."

Harry received it, and opened it – his eyes widened as he flicked through it, looking through the massive amounts of information, diagrams and pictures.

"That's nearly my life's work – all I know about Shinobi. Everything from training exercises, to weapons, to different _Kekkai_ _Genkai_ as well as jutsus and fuinjutsu and weapon forging techniques. It is the most comprehensive guide on the ancient Shinobi world, and I would like for you to have it."

Harry's eyes nearly bugged out. "Really? But you said that it was your life's work! I can't take it!"

"I said it was nearly my life's work. My life is far from over, and there is much I still need to translate and research. I promise you there will be more, and we will keep in touch." Kishimoto grew sombre. "Harry, as the bearer of the Rinnegan you have a great responsibility. You must lead this world to a new era, and you must train and become strong. Even Nagato's techniques paled in comparision to the Rikudo Sennin, and because of that you must became stronger than even Nagato was."

"I… I understand. I promise I won't let you down," Harry answered firmly. "I will become strong. I will find true peace! I'll never give up," he said, paraphrasing Naruto's words to Nagato.

Kishimoto chuckled, recognising the reference. "Of course you will. But remember this isn't just a children's comic, Harry. You may have to make harsh decisions and do bad things. You have to remember, in the words of Machiavelli, to be an 'armed prophet'. That said, I have faith that no matter what, whatever world you forge will be better than this one."

The seeds had been sowed. Harry's childhood was now truly over, and his destiny had only just begun.

-P-

The three of them spent the next two weeks, the first spent in Tokyo, the second travelling around Japan's major tourist hotspots. They took many photos, and as Harry's first trip overseas it was the best fun he ever had as he got to see many of the places he had only read about and seen photos of. They even spent a day at the Tokyo Disneyland, as Emma had insisted that every child should go there at least once.

Being indulged in this culture that had so fascinated Harry helped to renew his purpose and fan his fiery conviction. Even as they saw and experienced all these wonderful new things, Harry had begun thinking what to do when they came home, and every night he'd read through the Shinobi tome, hungrily devouring its contents. Even though he could already mould chakra, he still did the meditation and physical exercises used to sense his _Yin _and _Yang _forces so that he knew what it felt like. Harry delved into fuinjutsu, the predecessor to magical runes, with a such fervent passion that Rod at one point threatened to bring him back home since he seemed more interested in it than in traveling around Japan.

Despite that hitch, the three greatly enjoyed their time in Japan, and, especially Emma, were saddened to leave.

However vacations must eventually end and soon enough Harry found himself at home, jetlagged and slightly sleepy. He had spent the day napping but got up in the afternoon to read through more of Kishimoto's notes on fuinjutsu, as well as the full details of different nature transformation techniques.

Though Kishimoto's modernisation of the Shinobi world was complete fiction he was shocked at how advanced they were, especially in the medical and scientific fields – nearly on par with modern innovations. Much of Orochimaru's DNA experimentations, for example, had remained the same, though there was little detail into exactly how he carried out the process. With the advent of modern technology however in addition to medical ninjutsu, it was plausible to advance on it and even use chakra in combination with sealing and drugs in order to push his body to its maximum potential, or used in combination to create new jutsu techniques. He needed to become stronger, and he needed to grow as quick as possible.

He clearly remembered Kishimoto's words to him regarding his growth – he needed to get stronger than even Nagato at his prime at once been, and that meant mastering all his Rinnegan techniques to an even greater point, meaning he needed to grow at a faster pace. But also Kishimoto had implied something else – in order to truly change the world, he couldn't do it single-handedly. He needed to gather others.

A new organisation, in other words. A new Akatsuki... or perhaps something completely different. Something which progressed and advanced from Akatsuki's goals. Akatsuki meant dawn... the dawn of something new. However, Harry was to be the end of an era... the sunset. _Irihi..._

Kishimoto had suggested wizards because they would be faster to train due to their stronger presence of _Yang_ energy.

He had been briefly confused with Kishimoto's explanation of _Yin _and _Yang_ forces in the body, though he now realised it was different to _Yin _and _Yang _release techniques. In the section on _Yin _and _Yang _release techniques, Kishimoto had hastily scribbled 'Rinnegan' beside them, and Harry wondered if, by mastering these two releases, he could create bloodlines in other people, as the Rikudo Sennin had once separated the Juubi into the tailed beasts using it – surely creating bloodlines must have been child's play.

But he wasn't an idiot. Though he was progressing, thanks to the Rinnegan, in two of the classical ninja fields, ninjutsu and genjutsu, he needed to also have devastating taijutsu. And he needed to convince Rod to teach him, in order to truly become a strong ninja.

-P-

A/N: This explanation came early on in order to help you guys to understand why he would want to go to Hogwarts, as well as provide indication of early plot points.

Many may complain at Harry's exponential growth – might I point out that Nagato himself had mastered all elemental release techniques by the age of ten? With the Rinnegan learning ninjutsu becomes child's play literally, which is why I always grow confused when people enthuse about the power of the Sharingan. Though even Konan, having only three years of ninjutsu training, without the Rinnegan, eventually became a fearsome S-ranked Shinobi.

Also, he needs that power as I plan to have Harry take on not only Hogwarts, but the world. To do that, all the ninja need to be capable of single-handedly levelling cities, though the circumstances in which they do so need to be right – for example, casting a genjutsu through the television to simultaneous mind-rape millions of people, or even a variant of Sasuke's technique _Kirin,_ which used natural lightning – instead why not the lightning of a power plant in order to overload and simultaneously short circuit the entire city and level an entire piece of land through its explosion? Though Irihi will be subtle at first, creating a cult of personality in order to extend influence. I want to do so because every day I look out I see political movements trying to take down governments - with this kind of turmoil, it'd be easy for a Rinnegan Harry to quickly gain a following though they won't be ninja but merely pawns.

I hope for one or two entertaining scenes where Harry or his recruits single-handedly destroy Hogwarts, the Ministry, etc. However their techniques will be balanced against each other, as what is conflict without inner conflict? For example, a genjutsu master paired against a Sharingan user. As I have hinted it may grow dark as Harry will need to do horrible, questionable things, which may not sit well with some of the ninja. That bloodline thing also I did so that Harry can give others _Kekkai Genkai_. What's a Harry Potter fic without at least one Sharingan user?

Oh yeah. And obviously this will be a powerful Harry. However, unlike some other fics, the other characters will also be powerful, and might even give Harry a run for his money in some areas?


	3. Chapter 3

**4 years later **

"_Tensions continue to rise in the Middle East between the…"_

Click!

"_Rumours are growing of a rapidly spreading cult calling themselves…"_

Click!

"_Crime rates are at an all-time high, spearheaded not only by the economic downturn but also the rapid proliferation of organised crime, most notably the criminal organisation based around the UK…"_

Click!

Harry dropped the remote and stood up, flexing his arms before heading towards the end of the room, where a glass set of chess had been set up, in the very early stages of the game. He gave an emotionless smile before picking up a pawn, moving it one place.

It was hard to believe that four years ago, he was a barely snivelling brat, one who just so happened to win the lottery, gaining a one in a million advantage that many would kill for. In those four years he had worked hard and trained even harder, building up his web of influence and contacts subtly as to not tip off authorities or others.

However, now, everything was paying off. Now, the game had finally started.

Harry closed his eyes before turning to look out the window. Everything was coming together nicely. "Hello, Hermione."

His closest ally did not even bat an eyelash, emerging out of the shadows of the darkened corridor. "Our growth has begun to slow down – I believe we can expect to hit our peak next month."

"That's very good, thank you," he answered, turning to meet her eyes.

She smiled. "Did you receive one as well?"

Harry nodded, gesturing to the open Hogwarts letter on the bookshelf. "You've already rejected it?"  
"Yes, I've sent it back claiming I've accepted an offer from another school," Hermione replied. "Am I to take over things here for a while?"

"That's good – it means that they will not send people to erase the magical world's existence from your mind, and they will not bother you either. Yes – in my absence you are to take over the guise of Pain temporarily."

To those in the government and the public, 'Pain' was no more than a myth, a media invention used to explain away the chaotic state of global society as well as place blame on those in power. The mere notion of a puppet master, calmly orchestrating events from a powerful base seemed absurd – however that was exactly why it was perfect.

Harry had been ruthless, and with the power of the Rinnegan, he was able to 'coerce' people into doing what he wanted, until he eventually had a strong following in multiple levels of society who knew also that Pain was more than just a myth.

"Should I continue our research?"  
"Yes – anything that gives us an advantage in combat will help. The wizards have very strange ways of drawing out their _Yang_, and the better equipped we are, the better prepared we are to protect ourselves."

"I thought you didn't want to engage anyone in a fight?" Hermione frowned.

"No, however I have received reports that Voldemort is on the move again and not as cornered as we thought."

Pain's reach didn't extend only to the muggle world – he had plenty of reach in the magical as well. Wizards were surprisingly weak-minded and lazy, and Harry had found it relatively easy to infiltrate the magical Ministries and sway those there to his service.

Hermione smiled. "I see. Then have fun, Harry!"

"Don't worry, I plan to," he answered with a smirk, before walking into the computer room, where currently a desktop computer was wired up to a large number of servers.

Sitting down, Harry tapped in a command, watching as a window popped up on-screen with a loading bar as his computer established contact with hundreds of other computers and phones around the world.

He moved closer into the microphone. "This is Pain," Harry stated, the computer disguising his true voice. "All networks, our growth is expected to hit its peak next month after a stage of exponential growth. I want all weapon shipment reports sent in via encrypted mail as well as dossiers on the American intelligence agencies' individuals currently attempting to track us. Continue to maintain high alert until these individuals have been dealt with. Pain out."

Harry terminated the link. It seemed absurd to think that an eleven year old boy could have attained such influence in four years, however few boys were as gifted as Harry. With Hermione's help he had done what many criminals dreamt of doing, while simultaneously keeping their operations away from the public eye.

All this was possible thanks to the incredible power Harry now wielded, stemming from his Rinnegan. Its abilities helped to exponentially speed up his training and allowed him time to train a second ninja, a kunoichi, Hermione. Her greatest asset was her intellect, though in time she would grow to be considerably stronger as long as she continued to dedicate herself to her training.

Such was her intelligence that Harry was fully confident in her to maintain a close eye on their operations through computers and the internet to remain in constant communication. Rarely did 'Pain' need to venture out – the main motivation of their associates was mutual profit.

Though Harry had figured out most of his Rinnegan's powers, some of the others were quite... esoteric. They continued to elude Harry's understanding, however, he was confident that he would eventually figure the rest of them out, and hoped this venture into the magical world would help him to do so.

Some could consider it the Shinobi world's 'successor', though Harry loathed to make the comparison as unlike the inward-looking wizards the ninjas were at one point the world superpower and the dominant force in Asia. However the wizards held a strong connection to the strange and obscure as well as the mythological, as the ninjas once had. Despite all of his skills, Harry could not boast of this strong connection, and such a connection to the spiritual had been key to the everyday life of the ninja – their use of the bijuu for example, or even summoning contracts with animals.

Such abilities could not be trained and relied on the ninja's connection to nature and the spiritual realm, and Harry hoped he could find them, as they were long lost to the technologically-centred muggle world.

-P-

Dumbledore didn't know what to think. For four years, he had constantly searched and searched, looking for the ever elusive child of the prophecy, i.e. one Harry Potter.

It had all started when he realised the wards at Privet Drive were failing, and he had hurriedly gone to the residence to question the Dursleys – only to realise that they, in their blind hatred of the boy, had signed him over to a new guardian in an effort to get rid of him.

Albus was a man who kept strict control over his emotions, however it would be understandable to anyone that he was nearly at the end of his patience after countless searches turned up nothing. Even performing Legilimency on the Dursleys did not provide him with any clue – instead, all he got was a strange, buzzing static in their memories, a most curious incident and only added one more mystery to the cryptic disappearance of Harry Potter. Nearly giving up, his only hope was the Hogwarts acceptance letter, which would reveal to him finally the boy's location.

However, to his never ending frustration the letter did not reveal any specific location regarding Harry, and instead the address was strange and cryptic at best, absolutely befuddling at worst. Even more strange was the return letter, with Harry himself, in very eloquent and precise handwriting, telling them he would get his school supplies himself and that he knew where and how to get on the train!

Who had told him of the magical world's existence? Better yet, even those who he had called on to hopefully intercept and stall Mr Potter, allowing him time to get there did not report anybody even matching his appearance going into Diagon Alley.

Dumbledore was very knowledgeable and his thirst for it was insatiable, and his curiosity about the young boy was now at an all-time high, not to mention his frustration and annoyance at how badly his plans had unravelled. They were still potentially salvageable though – but everything was riding on whether or not the boy would accept him.

So deep in his thoughts that Dumbledore nearly did not feel the wards alert him of Minerva's presence. "Come in, Minerva," he said in his kind, grandfatherly tone.

The stern, composed woman was unusually worried as she stepped into his office. "Albus? Is it true? Has Mr. Potter replied to his Hogwarts letter?" she asked in concern. McGonagall, like himself, was one of those employed to search for Harry, though like the rest of them did not turn up anything. Her concern for him stemmed mainly from her fondness for Lily and James, and he could almost sense the satisfaction of knowing she was right when he first came into contact with her regarding the boy's disappearance.

"Indeed, Minerva," Albus said, his eyes twinkling. "Harry has answered his Hogwarts letter, gathered his supplies, and will be there at King's Cross station on September the first."

McGonagall closed her eyes in relief. "Very good – if anything were to happen to Lily and James' boy..."

"Fear not, Minerva, though Harry disappeared from our radar for four years, now he is at Hogwarts I will personally keep my eye on him," Albus promised.

Minerva scowled at that. "Please don't think I'm a ruddy politician, Albus. I know exactly what it means when you claim to be 'keeping an eye on him'. Hasn't the boy had enough meddling in his life? He shouldn't have been left with those horrid muggles in the first place, he should have been placed with a good wizarding family!"  
"Everything I have done is for the boy's benefit, Minerva," Albus countered. "Though you do not like my methods, I know that, had I a second chance, I would have done exactly the same."

McGonagall's shoulders sagged. "I know that, Albus. But that doesn't mean I have to like it! I'm only allowing this because I have the greatest confidence in your leadership..."

"Then you also know that I always do my best to live up to that confidence, especially concerning young Harry," Dumbledore answered. "And we will get to see for ourselves the enigma that is Mr. Potter in person when he comes to Hogwarts."

-P-

Four years ago, Hermione could have hardly conceived that she would now be sitting in a makeshift lab, waiting patiently as a powerful looking boy with swirling purple eyes contemplated the cultivated cell specimens in a long row of petri dishes.

Though she was still incredibly young Harry had disregarded that as a legitimate excuse, and instead trained her rigorously, though much of the medical sciences Hermione had to learn herself. Her parents had no idea how educated their daughter really was – though her accelerated progress was thanks to not only medical ninjutsu but the liberal use of shadow clones to exponentially increase her knowledge with perfect accuracy and recall.

A ninja used all acceptable methods to accomplish their goal, and training was training, regardless of how 'honourable' a fashion it was done. And there was plenty of natural talent to help as well, considering Hermione was one of the brightest people he had ever met.

"So specimens one through to twenty four show no signs of progress? Disappointing," Harry commented, turning one of the dishes up to the light.

"Yes, and specimen twenty-five shows signs of degradation – the cultivated cells are being rejected by the host." Hermione sighed. "Even with modern medical innovations and ninjutsu this is proving frustrating."

Harry smiled, rubbing her shoulder. "It's fine. I trust you'll figure it out."

"Oh I know I will," Hermione stated confidently. "I won't fail you Harry!"  
Harry repressed a frown at her dedication.

Even Kishimoto admitted he didn't know all there was to the Rinnegan. Shrouded in myth and legend, its powers were so strange and some so obscure it was sometimes impossible to discern fact from fiction.

And over the course of the four years Harry had sometimes wondered whether his Rinnegan had yet another strange ability – the ability to draw people towards him, like magnets, to inspire a following as he had done. The Sage of the Six Paths had done it, as had Nagato, who had the monumental task of organising and maintaining loyalty from a group of extremely powerful, volatile missing-nins who were often at each other's throats.

Yet at the same time, he wanted to dismiss the notion as absurd. Though if there was one thing Harry had learnt in his beginnings, it was never to disregard anything, however ridiculous – after all, Hermione and Harry's first meeting was in itself strange and absurd, in a sense.

She was the first, the first of the new modern ninjas.

Kishimoto's words rang clearly in his mind. _"That Rinnegan you possess has the power to change the world... the Sage of the Six Paths used it to teach us the truths of chakra to an ignorant world, and, in turn, you must teach others the truths of chakra. To protect it, to hoard it for yourself... that is not the role of the Rinnegan. It is the visual representation of your power, the guiding light to a new world."_

-P-

Standing in King's Cross Station, an uncharacteristic look of confusion crossed Harry's features as he looked at his ticket. _Nine... and three-quarters? Wizards really don't have an ounce of common sense... _he snorted, lowering his sunglasses slightly as he walked to the platform between Nine and Ten and had a quick look around.

Since he had first confused magic for chakra the first time he looked through his Rinnegan it was relatively easy for him to detect magic's distinctive shimmer – there was a thin veil of it surrounding a pillar.

A family of redheads was by the entrance – Harry turned to regard them with a calm focus.

Dressed in their unusual clothing, as well as the extremely loud way they were chattering (it was a wonder that no one had noticed) it was blatantly obvious they were a magical family, a very large one. Though most of them were too old, there were two that looked around his age, a boy and a girl.

Harry unconsciously rubbed the seal stuck onto the inside of his shirt. It was one of the first ones he developed in his dabbling in fuinjutsu, and its purpose was quite simple – to detect those with an overabundance of internal energies. When it did, it would begin to vibrate slightly, not enough to be irritating, and when Harry was directly facing the person it would pulse with warmth.

The only downside was he needed to be in a reasonably close proximity – because of that, Harry would need to play the innocent card.

He approached the family, schooling his face to look a little lost, and soon enough the woman, clearly the mother, noticed him. As Harry approached the family, he nearly grinned in happiness when his seal began to vibrate.

"Hello there. Are you lost?"

Harry nodded glumly.

"Hogwarts as well dear?" She gave him a warm, motherly smile. "Don't worry, it's Ron's first time as well!"

The boy in question gave an enthusiastic nod – Harry turned directly towards him and gave him a polite smile, though inside he frowned when his seal responded with nothing. Just as well – the blankness in the boy's eyes suggested nothing of merit. "Any other of your family's first time?"  
"Yes that's right, I have a daughter as well, Ginny – although she'll come next year."

Harry turned to face the girl, who blushed slightly at the handsome and well-dressed boy, and inwardly smiled as his seal began to pulse warmly.

She was dressed as grubbily as the rest of their family and had a little bit of dirt, but considering Harry's background involved him literally dressing in rags clothes were hardly the most pressing matter. He wasn't that shallow, after all.

Narrowing his gaze slightly, the crystal-clear vision of his Rinnegan offered him vision of features of the girl that often went unnoticed – such as the almost impish hint of mischief her sheepish smile possessed, almost mirroring the mischievousness of the older boys who were undoubtedly twins, and the vivid spark in her eyes. Most would have dismissed her as merely a flat person, an average witch (which was an insult all in itself), but he was no ordinary person – he was a ninja, and ninja were trained to see underneath the underneath.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ginny," Harry said with a slight bow, making her blush as red as her hair. While he would have liked to further converse with her, he didn't want to arouse suspicion by focusing his attentions directly and so obviously. However she was clearly impressionable and sometimes all it took were a few good words to make a strong one. "And hello to you as well Ron," he said, not just out of courtesy but also to keep them from suspecting he was anything but polite.

"Ron!" His mother hissed.

"Um... hi," the boy said half-heartedly with a funny and awkward wave.

_Manners_, Harry chided mentally with a furrowed brow. "So, ma'am, how do we get to the Platform?"

"It's quite simple dear!" She pointed to the pillar. "There's a spell over that pillar that means people can't see it, quite simple really, so all you have to do is go through it. Best to get a running start if you're nervous!"

With that, Harry thanked them, and to put on a show, did so, running straight through the pillar with his trolley rattling in front of him. He passed through the barrier rapidly, to come onto the Platform, with a bright steam train – the Hogwarts Express.

Harry sighed, wondering if this was really a good idea as he got onboard. He didn't think he was exactly teacher material, especially given the ability of his Rinnegan; however Kishimoto had made it quite clear – the Rinnegan had signalled the return of the ninja world, but in order for there to be a ninja world, there needed to be _ninjas_.

Harry had with Hermione's help devised an intense, accelerated training regime that would bring those he recruited up to speed – however naturally the regime would be extremely brutal. The initial intention was to get them up to the capabilities of a standard genin then push them as far as they could go, with the ultimate purpose of providing S-ranked ninja as fast as possible.

The brutality of the training had caused Hermione and Harry to have many disagreements. Though she was intensely loyal she still retained a strong set of virtues, and this was enough for her to put up protest.

That was the reason Harry was using his seal to sort out those of suitable strength – anyone else would most likely die from the training. However just strength wasn't enough, he also needed to personally assuage their mental state and just how ready they were to undergo and see through the training. Furthermore, Harry was limited to those a year older and below, and since the very youngest in Hogwarts were those of his year this would make things even more difficult.

With Hermione, he had four years, though her talents were of a more intellectual type. However, he needed to have full faith in his abilities, otherwise he would never succeed.

Soon enough the train was off, though Harry was still sitting by himself, his lightning-quick mind rapidly flicking through plans, re-assembling, deconstructing and reconstructing them. Though the Rinnegan could not copy things to the extent of the Sharingan, it had bolstered his capacity to learn exponentially, and not just jutsu – Harry suspected it was, like the Sharingan, also helping him to learn quicker, though exactly how, he had no idea.

He was interrupted from his musings as soon as he felt his seal begin to vibrate once more – as if on cue, his door timidly slid open as a chubby boy poked his face in. "E-Excuse me, can I sit here? I got kicked out of the o-other carriage..." he said sheepishly.

Turning to face him, Harry felt pleased when his seal began to pulse warmly. _So... another one?_ "Of course," he said with a polite smile, gesturing for the seat directly in front of him, while sizing the boy up.

Unfortunately he was a little on the chubby side, not to mention not particularly strong as he had to step up and help the boy lift his trunk up onto the rack. Furthermore, the hunch in his shoulders and his timid voice clearly indicated a confidence problem.

But Harry saw no problem, only an opportunity. Here was a boy – young, capable of using chakra, and mouldable. He was a blank state, and that was _perfect_.

"I'm Neville," the boy said hesitantly. "N-Neville Longbottom."

Harry bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Hello, Neville. I'm Harry. Harry Potter."

Suddenly the whole boy's demeanour changed, his mouth gaping in astonishment. "H-Harry P-Potter?"

"That's who I am, correct," the ninja answered evenly. To his delight, the boy's eyes didn't flick straight to his scar, which had now faded considerably, though Neville still retained his awe. "Do you come from a wizarding family?" Harry asked, maintaining his illusion of ignorance.

"Y-Yes," Neville answered nervously.

Harry smiled to try putting the boy at ease. "Relax, Nev," he said, giving the boy a nickname to help establish a sense of familiarity. "I may be famous, but that doesn't mean I'll bite. What House do you think you'll be in?"

Slowly, Harry managed to break the ice between them. While the boy still retained his trepidation and awe, these weren't the most dominant emotions playing out in him and Neville was comfortable enough to ask relatively open questions about Harry and about his upbringing.

Harry had never been much of a liar, and had no intentions of lying to Neville, whose trust he was trying to gain. Instead, he told the truth as openly as possible, adding slight half-truths and diversions wherever need be, which thankfully were very few. Doubtless many would be wondering where the boy-who-lived had been all this time, and though Harry didn't want to go into strict details he didn't necessarily need to.

However, their conversation was soon interrupted when a redheaded boy about their age poked his head in – the same one from before that had no talent for wielding chakra. "Do you mind if I sit here?" The boy – Ron he recalled – asked nervously. "Everywhere else is full."  
Harry nearly narrowed his eyes in annoyance. The boy had a bit of a daft look about him and didn't seem to be anything more than an average wizard. However, it was his sister he was interested in, and he needed to acquire a way to connect with her again. Furthermore, if he was rude it could possibly turn off Neville towards the idea of a friendship. "Not at all," he answered amiably. "Come in."

Passing Neville's toad back to him, which had taken the opportunity to try and hop away, the two boys sat down, Harry on one side, Ron and Neville on the other.

"Ron Weasley, right?" Harry asked to get an affirmative nod.

"And who're you?" Ron asked in a snotty manner.

"Do mind your manners," Harry corrected. "The boy beside you is Neville, Neville Longbottom. And I am Harry Potter."

At that the redhead's eyes widened and he gasped, before his gaze, predictably, flicked towards his forehead. "Are you really? Do you have the… you know, the…"

"I do," Harry replied.

When it was clear he wasn't going to show his scar, Ron thankfully and surprisingly kept silent – though he huffed all the same.

Mentally Harry sighed – this was going to be a long train trip.

-P-

As was the custom every year at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall waited patiently for the first years to arrive under Hagrid's guidance.

Inwardly however, her mind had other concerns, namely concerns over Harry Potter. The boy had, after all, literally vanished from under Albus' watch, and though she was pleased to see that he was far away from those horrible muggles his upbringing remained an enigma – till hopefully now, when she would be able to see first-hand what the child of two of her favourite students was like.

And here they came now – this year's group of new Hogwarts students. Quickly McGonagall began scanning them, wondering how he would look like now since the last time she saw him he was but a baby.

It didn't take too long, and McGonagall nearly did a double-take when she saw him. He was easily one of the tallest students of the year, but his build, instead of the skinny, childish build of most eleven year olds, was stronger and clearly defined – if she had seen him out among the third years or possibly even fourth, albeit a very short one she would have easily mistaken him for being in the same year group.

Though when he was a baby McGonagall had thought he was the very spitting image of James, now she saw much of Lily in the boy – his hair was not as messy as James' was, instead smooth with his fringe tucked to one side, partially hiding his eyes in a very feminine manner, easily reminiscent of Lily. His face, though strong and defined, was too clearly inspired by Lily, and his dark hair had streaks of red in them. The most vivid part of his face, however, was his brilliant emerald eyes – as they caught the reflection of the light they would seem to sparkle and glimmer, but even in the shadows they glowed, as if illuminated by inner power.

Even in her surprise however McGonagall quickly found her voices. "Welcome to Hogwarts," she began. "In a few moments you will join your classmates, but before that, you need to be Sorted into your different Houses. There are four Houses at Hogwarts – Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Your House will be your family for your time at Hogwarts – your House will gain points if you do well… any rule breaking, your House will lose points." She turned and walked into the Great Hall. "The Sorting will begin momentarily."  
Among his fellow year, Harry had taken the time to properly mark out which of these had the capabilities he was looking for. Thankfully there were a few, though in order to get the best out of them he needed to focus on quality, not quantity. Furthermore he wanted to take his time as well otherwise there would be suspicion.

"So it's true then," the snotty voice caused Harry to turn around in annoyance, to see a pompous, pale blonde boy with slicked back hair flanked by two goons. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

This naturally caused a significant stir amongst the students – many looked at the powerful figure in astonishment while those muggleborn needed explanations on why he was so famous.

Harry met the boy's gaze with such intensity it made him look away. "Indeed."

"My name's Malfoy – Draco Malfoy," he stated proudly, before glaring at Ron when he sniggered. "Think my name's funny, do you? Red haired, patchy clothes – you must be a Weasley." Draco snorted. "You'll soon find out that some wizard families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort... I can help you there." He raised his hand in an offer of friendship.

Harry frowned. His seal was vibrating, clearly indicating the boy's internal energy level – however if he took the boy's hand he would potentially alienate his newly acquired connections.

At the same time however Malfoy reeked of pomposity and wealth, undoubtedly from an old magical family. Such a connection would be powerful to have, with all its benefits and drawbacks, and more importantly – a way to possibly retrieve any ancient ninja scrolls or weapons, which were most likely passed down from generation to generation by old magical families with no knowledge of what they truly possessed.

Harry had read up on the wizard world, and he knew of the Malfoy's infamous wealth and notorious reputation – to acquire this student however he couldn't play the friendship card. He needed to make the boy fear and respect not only him, but his power.

Harry leaned in to Malfoy's ear to the boy's surprise. "You speak to me as if we are equals... no, as if you laud some sort of advantage over me," he hissed in a cold tone that sent a chill down Draco's spine. "Let me assure you Malfoy that is not the case. Once you're finished playing your petty little pureblood games – once you're finished playing in the little leagues, when you truly desire power... then _come to me_!" the last part was uttered with a hint of a guttural growl, as Harry formed a hand seal and dropped his genjutsu, revealing his swirling Rinnegan eyes.

At them the boy shrieked in terror and stumbled backward – Harry turned, his genjutsu already back up as Ron and many others barely managed to suppress their laughter.

The laughter quickly ceased however when McGonagall's stern figure came back in and lead them into the Great Hall, where oddly enough, an old wizard hat was seated on a stool.

To many of the first years' surprise, the old hat opened its mouth and began to sing.

_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

At that the Hall burst into applause, before McGonagall walked up beside it, unfurling a piece of parchment. "You will come up to try the Sorting Hat when your name is called!"

"We just have to try on a sodding hat? Is that all? I'm going to kill Fred and George!" Ron muttered from behind him. Harry strongly resisted the urge to roll his eyes, keeping a blank expression on his face.

"Abbott, Hannah!

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Harry tuned out the rest of the proceedings, choosing instead to let his gaze wander over the rest of the Great Hall.

From the time they entered Hogwarts Harry had already mentally marked those who had potential as ninja. Naturally anyone could learn how to mould chakra, however very few possessed enough of an aptitude for it to make them worth teaching – especially since Harry didn't want to be doing it the 'proper' way and teaching from their very childhood. The process was too long for their needs and that was the reason why in order to cut down the time dramatically Kishimoto had suggested he target talented witches and wizards who possessed an overabundance of internal energies.

"Potter, Harry!"

At once the Great Hall broke into a chorus of hushed whispers and mutters.

"_The_ Harry Potter?"  
"I heard that he's been given secret training..."

"Wow! Just look at him!"  
"I could gobble him up..."

Harry ignored their comments though he could literally feel the sneer of the greasy-haired, hooked-nose man that had been glaring at him earlier, sitting on the stool and letting the wide brim of the hat obscure his vision.

"_Well... this is an interesting mind you have here, Mr. Potter."_

Harry raised an eyebrow at the voice inside his head. "You're not going to go blabbing all my secrets, are you?"

The hat seemed offended. _"Why would I ever soil the opportunity to Sort the first wielder of a Bloodline Limit since the time of the ninjas?"_

At that Harry nearly shot up in surprise. "You know of Kekkai Genkai? And ninjas?"  
_"Relax Mr. Potter, my enchantments were set from the time of the founders to never speak of what I see in a student's mind. However I do indeed know of what you speak. You, Mr. Potter, possess the Rinnegan, the Samsara eyes of the Sage of the Six Paths who even the Founders looked up to in awe and reverence."_

"So the Founders knew of the ninja era?" Harry asked.

"_In the same manner that many today know of the Roman Empire. Even to those in the Founders' day it was ancient history though with the Romans there are detailed records – for the ninja all details had been lost, and only those powerful or knowledgeable enough to acquire the information knew more than simple lore and legend."_

Harry mulled this over as his respect for Kishimoto grew even higher. "And now?"

"_And now Mr. Potter knowledge of ninja is all but lost – though not completely as you yourself know."_ The hat seemed to sigh. _"That is enough nostalgia for an old hat, it is now time to see where to put you, Mr. Potter. Let's see here... well this will be difficult! You certainly are brave and daring enough to be Gryffindor, with a strong sense of ninja honour, but you are more than intelligent enough for Ravenclaw. Yet you would more than fit into Hufflepuff since you are on the lookout for allies – yet your bold ambition and your impressive cunning simply screams Slytherin. Now, Mr. Potter, where to put you?"_

"I must admit, I don't like others being able to look into my mind, even if you won't – or can't – speak of what's in here," Harry commented dryly.

"_Do you really think so little of your abilities Mr. Potter? Could petty wizard techniques like Legilimency pierce through the powerful mind of a ninja?"_

At this Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

"_As you yourself know, Mr. Potter, wizards only wield half of the energy required to create chakra. Having wielded it for so long like you have, chakra is produced and runs through all your body's pathways subconsciously... including the pathways of the mind. However, on the other hand, a wizard is twice as vulnerable against mind-based ninja techniques."_

"Genjutsu? Of course... because wizards possess the key elements that make up chakra but can't use it..." Harry muttered.

"_Precisely, Mr Potter. So your fears are unfounded."_

"Then what about you?"

"_I've been doing this for an awfully long time, Mr. Potter – and besides, a clever hat like me knows a way..." _it said mysteriously. _"But since you are so clearly bent on avoiding attention, the logical choice for you to go to would be where they most expect – in other words _GRYFFINDOR!"

The students, who had been waiting patiently for the long sorting burst into applause as Harry sat the hat back down and went to join those at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore visibly breathed a sigh of relief and joined the clapping, while the Gryffindor table was ecstatic, with a few chanting "We got Potter, we got Potter!"

Even as Harry went to a spare seat besides Neville he shook a plethora of hands, all eager to introduce themselves to their saviour and get on his good side. The desperation to which many tried to do so was laughable.

At the end of the Sorting, the Headmaster stood up from his chair. "Welcome to yet another year at Hogwarts! To those new we bid you a special welcome, and to those returning, a warm welcome back! I would like to say a few words before starting the feast: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! That is all." And without further ado, the Headmaster clapped his hands as the tables were magically filled with food.

Ignoring the Headmaster's eccentricities, Harry instead turned his attention to the food before frowning slightly in annoyance at the choices on offer.

To help maintain his fitness Harry underwent a strict diet of food of a wide variety – he had a schedule, in fact, specifying which types of food he was to eat at what times. However, there was very little choice on offer here and mostly greasy, fatty foods – perfect for a teenager, but nowhere near good enough for a ninja.

At the same time however Harry had a prickling feeling on his neck telling him that someone was still watching him even now – because of that, he swallowed his unease and began making a show of putting food on his dish before consuming them in small quantities and little bites.

At the end of the feast, Dumbledore once again stood up. "Now, before you disperse to your separate Dormitories to get some rest for tomorrow, there are some announcements I'd like to make. Firstly, our caretaker, Argus Filch, would like to remind everyone that the Forbidden Forest is just that: forbidden, to all students. Secondly, under no circumstances are students to visit the third floor corridor unless they would like to die a very painful death."

"What does he mean by that?" Harry asked the Prefect, Percy he recalled, across from him.

"I'm not quite sure." Percy frowned. "It's not like the Headmaster to give vague instructions like that."

Needless to say, it looked like his time at Hogwarts would prove very interesting.

-P-

A/N: Last update till after Christmas. So, who will Harry be recruiting and what experiments are him and Hermione be doing (whose backstory will be explained in later chapters)? Which characters get which bloodlines? Who do you want to see with bloodlines?


	4. Chapter 4

Ron frowned as Harry came in and sat beside them. "I thought you had breakfast already?" He asked in confusion.

"What made you think that?" Neville, sitting on the other side, questioned.

"I didn't see him in bed when I woke up, so I thought..."

"It's not a big deal, I'm an early riser," Harry explained as food appeared in front of him – and he looked please to see it was exactly what he wanted, a relatively austere meal of rice, mixed vegetables and lean meat and fish but much more appetising than the fatty bacon, eggs, toast and pastries they were being served. "So I took some time to explore the castle." In reality, all his castle-exploration had been done last night, and this morning he did training and exercises – all part of a rigorous training schedule he avidly kept to every day. The Forbidden Forest provided a perfect place for him to train and keep his skills a secret, though the groundskeeper, Hagrid would most likely eventually get suspicious.

The redhead cringed with one look at Harry's meal. "Blimey! What the bloody hell is... that?"

"That, Ronald, is my breakfast," Harry answered calmly as he picked up his chopsticks and began eating. "I apologise if it doesn't meet your expectations." He said, finishing it with a slight drawl.

The boy flushed in embarrassment while those around them chuckled at the implied insult.

To those observing, Harry's eating manner was curious – extremely polite yet very swift and efficient. In only a few minutes he had finished eating, a striking contrast to Ron who had stopped using his knife and fork, instead favouring his fingers to grab the pastries and was well through his second plate.

"We have Potions first up," Harry said as he stood up, neatly stacking his chopsticks and plates on top of each other. "I'm going there early, anyone else want to join me?"

Ron swallowed another strip of bacon. "Go early? To class? Are you barking mad?"

"Um... I'll walk with you, if you don't mind?" Neville offered.

"Of course. You finished eating? Then let's go. Bye, Ron," Harry threw a half-hearted wave as the two of them departed, leaving Ron to look at them incredulously.

"Really... go to class early?" He snorted, licking his fingers. "As if!"

It had been several days since class started. Getting friendly with the Longbottom heir had been an infuriating prospect, since in the Gryffindor dorms there was hardly any time for chats. Most of the 'bonding', Harry noted, was done through day-to-day affairs – going to class, playing games together, working on homework, etc, etc.

This was all well and good, however Harry didn't plan to spend seven years at Hogwarts trying to learn magic, meaning he needed to connect to the prospective students sooner. Furthermore, Neville, he had noticed, was much more closed off than the other students and a lot more shy. He was often too worried about daily affairs, such as remembering to do his homework or making sure he knew the Gryffindor dormitory password, to even mention his family or anything personal. It would take a long time for him to open up. Unless someone pushed the issue.

"So Nev..." Harry said casually once they were out of the Great Hall. "Tell me a bit about yourself."

Neville flushed. "Me? What is there to tell?"

"Well... what about your parents? What do they do?"

At that Neville stopped, his struggle to keep up with Harry's powerful stride forgotten as a haunted look, unusual on the chubby face, passed over it.

Harry frowned, turning to regard the boy with a thoughtful look on his face. However, he chose not to say anything, instead resuming his walk at a slower pace and letting Neville follow, with that dark look on his face.

"I... no. I live with my Gran," Neville tentatively answered, after much silence.

"I've heard you mention her a few times, I'm guessing she was pretty strict on you?" Harry guessed.

Neville looked up in surprise, his prior funk vanishing. "How did you know that?"

"Educated guess. Come on, we're already here."  
The pudgy boy blinked as Harry walked into the classroom. _That was fast_. He had been so deep in his thoughts, he had simply followed Harry's lead.

"Sit together, yeah?"

"Er... of course."

The classroom was mostly empty when the two sat down, though that was to be expected and welcome – Harry wanted to learn more about Neville, but he also wanted to do so privately and without interruption. It had been a light and simple gamble to get the boy to follow him to class early so they had a chance to converse.

He had already marked out a few potentials, however Neville was currently the closest since they were almost always in regular contact. Because of this, it was more than likely, if Neville accepted, he would be his closest and potentially strongest ally, from the first batch of recruits.

A few minutes after they sat down, Draco and his cronies walked in, followed by a few Slytherin students whom Harry had dryly dubbed 'Slytherin royalty'.

It was obvious to anyone who looked that Draco was the person around which this group rallied – however at the same time it was pitiful, since they rallied around his title, his status as a Malfoy, as the Slytherin Prince due to the machinations of his father – the pudgy girl that cooed at him, the two thugs on either of his flanks – all coincidental privileges, since it was pure coincidence he happened to be born in the family he was.

Not to say that he possessed disdain for those of certain bloodlines – as a ninja after all you needed to take advantage of every benefit. However on the other hand, this could make this soft, arrogant, weak, undeserving of noble blood.

At the very least in ninja clans like the Uchiha their members were trained from birth and underwent hardships in order to nurture their Kekkei Genkai. Though the arrogance was equal between both a ninja clan like the Uchiha and a pureblood family like the Malfoys.

When Draco saw that he was already sitting at his desk, instead of the trademark sneer he had seen on the boy's face, there was instead a calculating, strangely thoughtful expression. Harry wondered what was going on in the boy's head.

Gradually the class began filling up, Ron naturally arriving at the very last minute. Literally a few seconds after he sat in his seat, the doors burst open and the tall, dark-garbed man Harry had seen sneering at him at the opening feast strode in, his cloak billowing behind him in a very impressive way.

The man, Professor Snape, he heard from the older Gryffindors, walked past the jars of pickled animals, before turning around, his dark eyes passing over the classroom of first years before passing over Harry. "Ah yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter - our new... celebrity."

Harry kept a passive face, while some of the Slytherins sniggered.

He finished the roll call before looking up at the class once more. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began, his voice quiet yet carrying throughout the cold room. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching minds, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper on death – that is, if you aren't the usual bunch of dunderheads I have to teach." Silence. The students looked at each other incredulously.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" He asked suddenly.

Harry blinked. "A sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death, sir."

Snape's brow creased, the only indication on his face he had been taken by surprise. "Well, it looks like even celebrities can read the first page of a book," he sneered. "Let's see if you've actually read the rest. Where would you find a bezoar, Potter?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir." Harry's face was blank, yet he had put one hand on top of the other in front of him. If Hermione were here, she could immediately tell it was a sign of restrained annoyance and caution.

"Potter! What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape demanded, all sign of subtlety gone.

"There is no difference, sir. It's also known as aconite."

Snape whirled around. "Well? Why aren't you copying all this down?" He snapped, walking back to the front of the classroom. "And five points from Gryffindor, Potter, for cheating." He added, to the gasps and indignation of the Gryffindors.

Harry chose not to respond, instead studying the Professor as he assigned them into pairs and gave them instructions for a simple potion to cure boils. The man seemed like a vulture, the way he would swoop in on different students as he checked their progress, ignoring a few of the Gryffindors' requests for help. At the same time, however, he was more than helpful to the Slytherins, praising Malfoy's potion, who he particularly liked to favour, and made Neville so nervous he nearly put porcupine quills into the potion before taking it off the fire, a sure fire way for messing up the potion.

However, just because one disaster wasn't averted didn't mean another wasn't going to happen. Ron found himself carted off to the Hospital Wing with painful boils after his and Seamus' cauldron exploded. Snape had blamed Harry, despite him being on the other side of the room, and docked even more points off.

The potion they eventually brewed was quite decent, Neville shrinking in fear when Snape checked it before deeming it "adequate". The class couldn't be over soon enough as Neville hastily left the dungeon, followed by Harry.

"Nev! Hey, Nev!" Harry called. "Slow down. It's all right, don't let that greasy overgrown bat scare you," he said in assurance as Neville stopped, his hand shaking slightly.

"S-Sorry, Harry, it's just..."

"Relax. Come on, we have a bit of a break before our next class. You wanna grab a snack? How about some ice cream?" Harry offered.

Neville was confused. "How? It's not lunch-time yet..."

Harry gave the boy a grin. "Follow me then."

Swiftly, Harry led the boy to the Great Hall, but instead of going in turned down another staircase. "It was the first thing I found out," he explained, leading the boy to a portrait of a bowl of fruit. "Fred and George Weasley were nice enough to give me a... grand tour of Hogwarts, for two Galleons." He raised his hand, and began tickling the pear in the bowl – to Neville's amazement the pear squirmed and giggled before shifting into a green door knob, which Harry turned and opened.

"Whoa...!" Neville gasped. The kitchens were massive, filled with many house elves constantly working – washing dishes, cooking, etc. There were four long tables, much like the four tables for the Houses in the Great Hall.

"You think it's busy now? Apparently it gets much busier during mealtimes," Harry stated as a house elf came to greet them.

"Harry Potter sir is back! Is happy with new food?"

"Yes, I'm very happy," Harry answered with a smile. "If you don't mind, we'd like two servings of the ice cream I wanted?"  
"Of course! Hanky will get right to it!"

The elf provided two seats and a small table, allowing the pair to sit down.

"Nothing like a bit of ice cream for a snack," Harry said, giving the boy a reassuring pat. "Don't let Snape get to you alright? I'm sure he's all talk anyway."

By this time Neville was feeling a bit more relaxed and akin to his normal self. "How can you say that? He was targeting you all class! It's almost like he had it out for you," Neville protested.

Harry for his part agreed completely with Neville's assessment. From the very moment he set foot in the man's class, it seemed like he had made himself a target. The disdain Snape possessed for him, as well as the sheer arrogance was astounding - ironic, since the greasy-haired teacher claimed that he was the one who was arrogant.

Not to mention his abysmal teaching, if one could call it teaching at all. He clearly favoured the Slytherins and despised the Gryffindors, and since all of his Potions classes were with the Slytherins Harry couldn't see if it was a regular pattern for the other Houses as well. Furthermore, he had yet to determine the relationship between Snape and Draco Malfoy considering the man's lavish praise of the boy.

"I'd like to see him try anything outside of Hogwarts," Harry answered calmly as Hanky returned with two bowls, putting them down. "Thank you, Hanky."

The house elf bowed before returning to its duties.

"You're joking aren't you? My gran told me that Professor Snape used to be a... a Death Eater!" Neville said, his face pale. "Merlin knows how he stayed out of Azkaban..."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this. "Really?" He picked up his bowl. "Come on, best not to let it sit."

Looking down, Neville picked up his spoon and looked at the ice-cream in surprise. "Uh, Harry... what is this?"

Instead of normal ice-cream this type of ice-cream was harder and shaped into several, multi-coloured balls.

"My favourite luxury treat!" Harry smiled, eating a spoon of it. "Mochi ice-cream. It's Japanese. The green ones are green tea flavoured, the red ones are strawberry. Try it!"

Neville looked down, poking them with a spoon in confusion. "Green tea flavoured?" He asked blankly.

"Come on, where's your Gryffindor courage?"

Timidly, Neville scooped out a little bit of the green tea ice cream and raised up the spoon, before putting it in his mouth. As soon as the substance touched his tongue, however, his eyes lit up. "It's really good!" With that, Neville began digging in with earnest.

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, it's a Japanese delicacy that's really grown on me."

Neville finished quickly, leaning back in his chair in satisfaction.

"Liked it eh?" Harry said with a grin, eating at a more subdued pace. He rarely had the chance to indulge in a well-made mochi ice-cream, and was frankly amazed at how quickly the house elves had learnt the recipe. It was too bad that Hogwarts' teaching standards wasn't as consistent as its culinary prowess.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick were indeed teachers he could admire. They were clearly experts in their respective chosen fields, and easily commanded an air of respect in the classroom though their methods differed, McGonagall of a sterner attitude than Flitwick. He was also impressed with Professor Sprout's teachings, though he himeslf held no more interest in gardening than the average wizard. Neville, for some odd reason, showed a surprising aptitude for it.

At the other end of the spectrum was of course Professor Snape, but also Professor Binns. Though he loathed putting them in the same category, frankly neither of them belonged in teaching. Snape because he clearly hated it, and Binns... well, he was dead.

Harry had only been here a couple of days and it looked like his time at Hogwarts would provide some interesting challenges.

"So Nev, what do you think of Hogwarts so far? You like the classes?" Harry asked breezily, pushing his dish away. Looked like that was his luxury treat for the week...

"It's going pretty good, I think..." Neville said with a small grin. There was a pause however, before his shoulders slumped. "Okay... aside from Herbology, I'm not really doing all too well. My gran won't be too pleased at the end of the year I think..."

Harry sighed. "Nev, you shouldn't worry about what your gran thinks. Just focus on doing better, not just to become a better wizard but to become a better human being. You should seek to rise above yourself and conquer your challenges!" Neville gave him a blank look. "... basically I mean you shouldn't want to do better just because your gran wants you to but because you want to."

"That's easy for you to say Harry. You're the boy-who-lived!"

At that, Harry gave him a bemused look. "And what on earth does that have to do with anything Nev?"

"It's just..." Neville sighed. "We usually sit close to each other in class. Don't think I don't know that you're talented! Even Professor McGonagall said you were one of the only students she's ever had to get turning a matchstick into a needle on their first try perfectly! Maybe I'm just not a very good wizard... I still can't get it down right."

"That doesn't mean anything," Harry argued. "Just because you haven't gotten it right _now _doesn't mean you won't get it right this afternoon or tomorrow. That's your problem, Nev! You're giving up prematurely. If you give up, you might as well settle for a life of mediocrity because if you give up on a little matter like this you might as well bend backwards for the more important things later in life."

Neville physically flinched at his words – they stung, not from insult but from harsh truth.

Harry continued. "You should aspire for something greater – not just to prove yourself to your gran because that's a weak way to live. Your gran won't be around your entire life, you can't rely on her as your source of strength. Dig deep, Nev. You need to find your own source of strength." With that, the ninja stood up before thanking the elf and going out the door, leaving the pudgy boy to his thoughts.

-P-

As there was still half an hour before class, Harry decided to visit the library, easily one of the best places in Hogwarts. It contained a large number of books on a multitude of different subjects, and Harry couldn't help but be enthralled by not only the traditionally interesting subjects but also in wizard history.

The area of wizard history he was most interested in, however, were the early periods, the dark ages – in other words, the period before and during the formation of the modern wizarding world. It was thanks to the founders of Hogwarts, of course, that the wizarding world existed as it did today.

Even though it had been just the first few days, Harry had regularly visited the library, pouring over old historical tomes and documents as well as primary sources, cross-checking for accuracy. Much of the information he had copied would be compiled into a scroll to be sent home, for Hermione to file away.

Sitting at his regular table, Harry had, as usual, a stack of tomes on his right and a pen and paper to his left. He couldn't stand the use of quills and parchment, finding them positively backwards.

Currently Harry had his nose buried in a rare book detailing the wizard dark ages, before the time of the Founders. There was a time gap between the era of the ninja and the officially recorded dark ages – Hermione had estimated it to be anything from a hundred to a thousand years – but the premise itself was simple. The wizards, though descended from ninja, had no means of defending themselves against raiders and barbarians, who soon pillaged what remained of the shinobi civilisations. Much of the information itself, in the form of ninja scrolls was looted or merely burnt. Many of the most-prized scrolls, the ones often sealed for their knowledge, were burnt while those on things such as taijutsu and kenjutsu, more practical, found their way into the hands of the most powerful bandits who used them to further their conquests. It was in this manner that much of Shinobi combat filtered into different styles across the world and elements of them could be seen in even modern martial arts.

However, those descended from ninja would soon attempt to develop their own methods of harnessing power like the legendary myths of the ninja. As these descendants dispersed across the globe, these methods advanced, eventually reaching the time of the Founders who completely revolutionised these methods and fully creating what the wizards now called 'magic'.

It was because of this that Harry regarded Kishimoto as a genius – unearthing information thought lost, piecing them together bit by bit... however the arrogance of wizards reached no boundaries as it was nigh-impossible to find books or artifacts on the 'ninja era'. In the minds of wizards, there had been nothing before the dark ages – magic had simply existed until they found a method of channeling it.

Many of these conclusions Harry had reached from piecing together what Kishimoto had written with what the wizards knew of their own past. However he wasn't foolish enough to presume all wizards were ignorant of ninja. Perhaps some, like Kishimoto, had, and in their haste to research found themselves ousted from wizard society, their notes and scrolls sealed away in Ministry archives.

Harry sighed, putting his pen down after revising a few of his notes.

Everything he saw in the wizard world was a way to replace what was lost after the time of the ninja. Ancient Runes and Wards for Fuinjutsu, Potions for medical Ninjutsu and poisons, Occlumency and Legilimency for Genjutsu and Mind-reading techniques... the list was endless.

Was there a point to any of this if a new ninja period would eventually collapse just as it did in its heyday, just as the stagnant wizards were going to? If it wouldn't be everlasting? What was the point of any of this?

The rustle of robes and giggles broke him out of his musings. Harry resisted the urge to groan, turning his head slightly so they were in his peripheral vision.

Fangirls. Really. He wouldn't have this problem if he were in a small group, however this was getting annoying. Ever since a few of the more bookish of them had seen him regularly in the library their priorities had moved gradually away from studying to stalking.

And it looked like they had gained a few members to their group. Harry usually ignored them, but since it was nearly time for class, he stood up and began packing his things. All the while he could hear them murmur and giggle, though they were careful to be quiet otherwise the librarian would have kicked them out by now.

But not quiet enough, it seemed, as Harry could still hear what they were saying.

"No, you talk to him!"

"...You do it!"

"No, you!"  
"...Okay, you, you, and you should go..."

"I will not!"

"Go already!"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they bickered. When they saw he had nearly finished packing and was about to leave, it looked like they had hastily reached a decision as several of the girls approached him.

"Excuse me..." one said, who looked, surprisingly, Second or Third year. "You're Harry Potter, right?"

Harry paused, wondering what he should say without being a total jackass before finally settling on simple answers. "... Yes," he said passively, zipping up his bag. Turning around, he set off – only for one of the girls to move in his way. _Stubborn, aren't they?_

"Would you like to... hang out with us?" The girl asked with a slight blush.

"I'm sorry, I need to get to class," Harry said, walking around her at a hurried pace.

"Maybe later?" Another offered, but he ignored her and walked out of the library.

-P-

History class was yet another boredom festival. In his haste to get away from the fan girls, Harry had forgotten to borrow the books he needed. Even worse, his time at the library would now be a lot worse considering he had... _interacted_... with a fan girl. Chances were that they would be hounding him at every possible moment considering that in order to spare their feelings he had neither accepted nor declined their offer.

Harry didn't need a reputation for needless cruelty after all, it was unbecoming of him, and detracted from his purpose in being here.

Sighing as he read over his notes, Harry glanced sideways – Neville wasn't paying attention, nor was he asleep or half-asleep as most of the students were. Instead, he was deep in thought, though not on the History lesson.

It was with great relief that Harry exited the classroom at the lesson's end. At lunch, Neville remained quiet, aside from the occasional greeting or hello. The shy boy had made few friends outside of Harry or Ron, thought that relationship was rather one-sided considering they only interacted due to Harry.

Even considering his timidity Neville was quieter than usual. Harry left the boy to his own thoughts as he exited the Great Hall. It was a lovely day outside, perhaps he ought to go for a walk...

"E-Excuse me?"

Harry turned around, his brow wrinkling in annoyance. _Another fan girl... _his eyes widened marginally however as he felt his seal begin vibrating.

The girl in question was a first year Hufflepuff, with a slightly roundish face and red hair.

As he turned to face her his seal began warming up against his skin. No doubt about it – this one also had potential. "Yes?"

She blushed under his gaze. "U-Um... I'd just like to say sorry on behalf of my friends," she said. "I've known for a while that they've been... well, keeping track of you while you're in the library. I've asked them to stop before they do something silly."

Harry looked at her thoughtfully before answering. "You've got impressive foresight – not many people would see that your friends' actions would escalate into something silly," he said. Her eyes widened at the maturity and depth of his voice. "Not only that but you're also loyalty enough to them to approach me on their behalf. I'm guessing they don't know about this?"

"N-Not about me apologising, no..."

"That's commendable... commendable indeed. You do your House proud." He cocked his head slightly to the side. "Well, you seem to know who I am already. May I ask your name?"

"S-Susan... Susan Bones..."

"Well... Susan Bones..." he gave her a grin, one that turned her blush an even deeper red. "I hope to see more of you someday. See ya!"

-P-

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat. "Now that official matters are over, tell me, have there any students that have caught your eye this first week?"

"Well, Albus, out of all the first years, Longbottom has displayed impressive aptitude for Herbology," Professor Sprout said with an easy-natured smile. "Even in the first week this was obvious."

Professor McGonagall mentally sighed. It was obvious who Dumbledore was subtly pushing for. "What about young Mr. Potter? I am curious to know how well he's doing in the other classes. In Transfiguration his talent is extremely impressive and easily on par with his father's, if not greater."

"I see that you've taken an interest in Harry, Minerva," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as if this wasn't his intention all along. "I must admit though, I, too, am curious about his progress."

"Mr Potter is also most impressive in Charms," Flitwick squeaked. "Why I dare say I have not seen such talent since his mother!"

"Potter is nothing more than an arrogant celebrity with an ego problem," Snape said with his trademark sneer. "His Potion-making is barely... passable."

None of the teachers made any comment at that – for Snape to admit that someone's Potions skills, outside of Slytherin, were 'barely passable' was quite a feat.

"Then it looks like he has inherited the best part of both of his parents," McGonagall said proudly. "He is polite and mature, and shows none of James'... more rebellious characteristics. I first thought he resembled James physically, but now I see much of Lily in him, both in character and in appearance."

Dumbledore contemplated all of his teacher's comments thoughtfully.

In truth, he himself had been observing the boy though his observations were restricted compared to those of his teachers. Harry was clearly confident and strong, and this seemed to exude out of him. He also clearly possessed a natural charisma without the need to be boisterous or loud. There was also an impressive grace in the way he walked – needless to say, with all these, it was no wonder he seemed to turn heads wherever he walked.

Yet it was still a mystery to him how Harry knew of magic before Hogwarts. He had used his considerable influence in an effort to locate the boy, but all efforts seemed futile. It was like Harry had vanished off the entire continent, only to return as a prodigious, charismatic leader in the making.

And furthermore, Dumbledore felt like he had missed something – a nagging sensation whenever he looked at the boy, as if there was something... strange about him. Something distinctive. Albus relied greatly on his lifetime of experience, and it was telling him there was much more to the boy than he was assuming.

"I see," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile. "Perhaps I'll need to have a cup of tea with the young man someday. I'm sure that we'd have a most... enlightening conversation."

-P-

"Harry... can I talk to you for a bit?"

The ninja looked up from his book. It was now the weekend – Neville had mulled over what he said for one to two days. "Okay, sure. Let's take this outside though, the Dormitory's not exactly private," he said, closing his book and standing up.

Leading the boy outside through the portrait, they quickly found an unused classroom.

"Nev... before you say anything... I apologise for talking down to you like that," Harry said with a sigh. "If that's what you were going to talk about."  
"Thanks Harry, but you don't have to apologise." Neville's hand tightened into a loose fist. "Because everything you said was completely true."

"And what makes you say that?"

"I... I've been sending letters to my Gran every day so far I've been at Hogwarts," Neville stated hesitantly. "And every time she replies... I just..." he swallowed. "I don't wanna... I mean, I wanna do things on my own."

Harry closed his eyes, suppressing a smile. "What do you want to do on your own, Nev?"

"Just... everything!" The last part he nearly yelled out accidentally and in his embarrassment it shifted to a sort of high-pitched squeak. Neville then sat down, ducking his head.

There was a moment's silence before Harry spoke. "I think we can do that Nev."

Neville looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah."  
"A-Are you sure? I mean, nobody's said that about me before... even my great aunt B..."

"Forget your great aunt," Harry interrupted. "Forget your grandmother. They're far away and you're here. You don't need to listen to her anymore." At Neville's aghast look Harry relented. "I mean, you don't need to feel like you need your fam... I mean," he said with a sigh, "you can learn to be independent. You can learn to do things for yourself. It's easy. Just tell me what you want to do with your life and I can help you do it."

"For real?" Neville looked wide-eyed.

"Yeah! I mean, what are your hopes and dreams?"

"My – my hopes and dreams?" Neville squinted. "Um..."

"Never mind, you can find out what it is. That's a part of growing up, yes?" Harry grinned. "I think I can help you become who you were meant to be."

-P-

A/N: Man... apologies for the late update. I just really hate having to go through these formative 'recruiting' chapters as well as simultaneously writing about First Year. I've skimmed a bit though I'm sure most of you know the general gist of the first book. I just really want to get to the good parts!

Anyway, Harry's first era of ninja will be (SPOILER ALERT for some of their powers!):

Neville Longbottom

Ginny Weasley (Powerful fire element, Lava Release, Boil Release, new fire element techniques)

Luna Lovegood (Toad Summoning Contract, Sage Mode + Mokuton to make new elemental release techniques)

Draco Malfoy (Snake Summoning Contract, silent killing, powerful water and earth infiltration techniques)

Daphne Greengrass (Hyoton, wind kenjutsu)

Susan Bones

Dean Thomas (Taijutsu, Shikotsumyaku)

?

Hermione Granger (Byakugan, Medical ninja, long-ranged special techniques)

That makes nine, and I think that's a very Naruto-esque number to go by. I sort of have a loose working of their distinctive abilities, some of which will be entirely unique to this story. Even for some of the characters' powers I've revealed, there will be some surprises, so there will hopefully be no complaints about the distribution of abilities. There will be a lot of character-focused sidestories to go by hopefully as well to trace their development.

Speaking of Naruto, I was wondering... towards the end of this fic, would anyone be interested in another story where Harry and the ninjas here accidentally find themselves in the Naruto universe, potentially as mentors to a young Naruto? I'm thinking of either inserting them into chuunin exam-time, or in the Shippuden storyline during/after the rescuing Gaara arc.


End file.
